'list of Plays on 2d, 3d and 4th pages of Cover. 



PS 1124 
.B6 D3 
1859 
Copy 1 



P No, CCXXII. 

)H'S STANDARD DRAMA, 




THE 



DARK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. 



% %H, m Ji&B gids. 



BY JOM BROUGHAM AND FRANK B. GOODRICH. 



WITH CAST OF CHARACTERS, STAGE BUSINESS, COSTUMES, 
RELATIVE POSITIONS, &c., &c. 



FIBST PEBFOBUED BY AMATEURS, FOB THE 



BENEFIT OP THE AMERICAN DRAMATIC FUND. 



PRICE,] 



NEW-YORK: 
AMUEL FRENCH, 

122 Nassau Street, (Up Stairs.) 



[.12i CENTS. 



.^^ 



,^/',^^^^.^'<. ^-^%-J? 7,/^ 



/Ts. ~Z ^-ji^ench A Tf heat, Frintere, 18 Auu Street, New Yylt. 



^ ^ 



FRENCH'S STANDARD DRAMA, 

Price 12>^ Cents each.— Bound Volumes $1. 




VOL. I. 


VOL. II. 


VOL. III. 


VOL. IV. 




1. Ion, 


9. The Stranger, 


17. The Poor Gentleman, 


25. Virginius, 




2. Fazio, 


10. Grandfatlier White- 


18. Hamljt, 


26. King of the Commons 




3. The .L,aay of liyons, 


11. Richard III. [head, 


19. Charles II. 


27. London Assurance, 




4. Richelieu, 


12. Love's Sacriflce, 


20. Venice Preserved, 


28. The Rent Day, , 

29. Two Gentlemen of' 




5. The Wife, 


1.3. The Gamester, [ache, 
14. A Care for the Heart- 


21. Pizarro, 




6. The Honeymoon, 


22. The Love Chase, 


Verona, 




7. The Schoolfor Scandal 


15. The Hunchback, 


23. Othello, [lings, 

24. Lend me Five Shil- 


30. The Jealous Wife, 




8. Money, 


16. Don Csesarde B^zar. 


31. The Rivals, 




With a Portrait and Me- 


With a Portrait and Me- 


SV'ith a Portrait and Me- 


32. Perfection, 




moir of Mrs. A. C. 


moir of Mr. CHARLES 


moir of Mr. W. E. BUR- 


With a Portrait and Me- 
moir of J. H. HACKETT 




MOWATT. 


KEAN. 


TON. 




VOL. V. 


VOL. VI. 


VOL. VII, 


VOL. VUI. 




33. A Kew W«y to. Pay 


41. Speed the Plough, 


49. Road to Ruin, 


57. The Apostate, 




Old Debts, 


42. 1 or.iej and Juliet, 


M. ilacbeth. 


iS. Tu.'1'.h Night, 




34. Look Before You Leap 


43. PeudalTimes, 


51. Temper, 


59 Brutus, 




35. King John, 


44. Charles the Twelfth, 


52. Evadne, 


60. Simpson k Co. 




36. Nervous Man, 


45. The Bridal, 


53. Bertram, 


61. Merchant of Venice, 




37. Damon and Pythias, 


46. The Follies of 8 Night 


54. The Duenna, 


62. Old Heads and Young 




33. Clandestine Marriage 


47. The Irou Cbest, 


55. Much Ado About No 


Hearts, 




39. William Tell, 


48. Faint Heart Never 


thing. 


63. Mountaineers. 




40. Day after the Wedding 


Won Fair Lady, 


56. The Critlo, 


64. Three Weeks After 

Marriage. 
With a Portrait and Me- 




M'lth a Portrait and Me- 


With a Portrait and Me- 


With a Portrait anfl Me- 




moir of 0. OOLMAN, 


moir of E. BULWEB 


moir of R. B. SHERI- 


moir of Mr. GEORGE 




the Elder. 


LYTTON. 


DAN. 


H. BARRETT. 




VOL. IX. 


VOL. X. 


VOL. XI. 


VOL. XII. 




65. Love, 


73. Henry VIII. 


81. Julius Casar, 


89. Ingomar, 




66. As Yon Like It, 


74. Married and Single, 


82. Vicar of Wakefleld, 


90. Sketches In India, 




67. The Elder Brother, 


75. Henry IV. 


83. Leap Year, 


91. Two Friends, 




68. Werner, 


76. Paul Pry. 


84. The Catspaw, 


92. Jane Shore, 




69. Gisippus, 


;t. Guy Mannering, 


8.'>. The Passing Cloud, 


93. Corsican Brothers, 




70. Town and Coontiy. 


78. Sweethearts and 


86. Drunkard, 


94. Mind Your Own Bus- 




71. King Lear, 


Wives, 


87. Rob Roy, 


iness, 




72. Blue Devils, 


79. Serious Family. 

80. She Stoop" to Con- 


83. George Barnwell, 


95. Writing on the Wall, 

96. Heir at Law, 




With a Portrait and Me- 


quer, 


With a Portrait and Me- 






moir of Mrs. SHAW. 


With a Portrait sud Me- 


moir of Mrs. JOHN 


With a Portrait and Me- 






moir of Miss C. CUSH- 


SEFTON. 


moir of Mr. THOMAS 






MAN. 




HAMBLIN. 




VOL. XIII. 


VOL. XIV. 


VOL. XV. 


VOL. XVI. 




97. Soldier's Daughter, 


105. Game of Love, 


113. Ireland As It Is, 


121. The Tempest, 




98. Douglas, 


106. Midsummer Night's 


114. Sea of Ice. 


12'2. The Pilot, 




99. Marco Spada, 


Dream, 


115. Seven Clerks, 


123. Carpenter of Rouen, 




100. Nature's Nobleman, 


107. Ernestine, 


116. Game of Life, 


124. King's Rival, 




101. Sardanapalus, 


M8. Rag Picker of Paris, 


117. Forty Thieves, 


125. Little Treasure, 




102. Civilization, 


109. Flying Dutchman, 


118. Bryan Boroihme, 


126. Dombey and Son, 




103. The Robbers, 


IW. Hypocrite, 


119. Romance & Reality. 


127. Parent* and Guard- 




104. Katharine and Pe- 


111. Th,.ese, 


12C. Uswinc, 


128. Jewess. [tans, 




truchio. 


112. La Tour do Nesle, 








With a Portrait and Me- 


With a Portrait and Me- 


With a Portrait and Me- 






moir of Mr. EDWIN 


moir of Mr. JOHN 


moir of Mr. BARNEY 






FOREST. 


BROUGHAM. 


WILLIAMS. 






VOL. XVII. 


- VOL. XVIII. 


VOL. XIX. 


VOL. XX. 




129. Camille, 


137. Nieht and Morning, 


145. Dred. or the Dismal 


153. French Spy, 




130. Married Life, 


138. .¥.'Wop, 


Bwamp, 


154. Wept of Wish-ton 




131. Wenlockof Wenlock 


139. Three Guardsmen, 


146. Last l.ia.vs of Pom- 


Wish, 




132. Rose of Ettrickvale, 


140. Tom Cringle, [ken. 


147. Esmeralda, [peil, 


155. Evil Genius, 




133. David Copperfleld, 


141. Henriette, thePorsa- 


148. Peter Wilkins, 


156. Ben Bolt, 




134. Aline, or the Rose of 


142. EostacheBaudin, 


149. Ben the Boatswain, 


157. Sailor of France, 




135. Pauline, [Killarney, 

136. Jane Eyre. 


143. Ernest Maltravcrs, 


IjO. Jonathan Bradford, 


158. Red Mask, 




144. Bold Dragoons. 


151. Retribution, 


159. Life of an Actress, 




•' 152. Minerali. 


160. Wedding Day. 




VOL. XXI. 


VOL. xxn. 


VOL. XXIII. 


VOL. XXIV. 




161. All's Fair In Love, 


169. Son of the Night, 


177. Actress of Padua, 


185. Young New York. 




162. Hofer, 


170. Rory O'More, 


178. Floating Beacon, 


186. The Victims. 




163. Self, 


171. Golden Eagle, 


179. Bride of Lammer- 


187 Romance after Mar- 




104. Cinderella, 


172. llionzi. 


mo'T, [Res, 
l.SO. Oata'-ictof Cie ( m- 


1 SS BrigRDd, [riage. 




165. Phaiitom, 


173. Broken 3worri, 


ls9 .--oor <f New York, 




166. Franklin, 


174. Rip Van Winkle, 


l.Sl. Robber of tlio Rhine 


190 AmbioseGwiuett, 




167. The Gunmaker of 


175. Isabelle. 


182. School of Reform, 


191 Raymond and Agnes, 




Moscow, 


176, Heart of Midlothian. 


183. Wandering Boys, 


192 Gambler's Fat^ 




yi§8. The Love of a Prince 




184. Mazeppa. 






1 j\, [Catalogue continued on third page of cover.] 





FRENCH'S STANDARD DRAMA. 
I 

Ejje ^ctfua 3Bt)ft[oii. 
No. CCXXII. 



THE 

DAM HOUR BEFORE DAWN. 

^ ^lag, ht di&c litis. 
BY JOHX BROUGHAM AND FRANK B. GOODRICH. 



TO WHICn ARK ADDED 



A Description of the Costume — Cast of tlie Cliaracters — Entrances and Exits 
Relative Positions of the Performers on the Stage, and 
the whole of the Stage Business 



FIRST PERFOKMED BY AMATEURS, FOR THE 

BENEFIT OF THE AMERICAN DRAMATIC FUND. 



Entered according to Act of Conffrcs«i In the year 1S53, by JoHV BBOUGHA.M and Fraitk B. 
CrOODKioH, in the Cleric's OfScs of th9 District Court of the United States {or tUe Soucberu 
DUtrict of New York. 



NEW YORK: 
SAMUEL FRENCH, 

122 Nassau Steekt, (Up Stairs.) 






ffiast of tljc Cdjarartcrs. — [The Dakk Hour nEFOKE Dawn.] 



Visco'mie de Rosiere 

Baron de Trop 

Alfred de Sen neville 

Chevalier Freluquel 

De Merhiche 

De Meschiii 

La Force, aftci' wards tlie Marquis do ^Mousseion. 

Joseph La Tour 

Pnpillon, Valet to the Viscomte 

Tirebouchon, Butler 

Papa Chanve-Souris 

Pierre Le Bellete 

Trehucliel 

Officer of ike Guard 

Cecile La Tour, Viconitesse de Rosiere 

Muicadine, Femnie de Clianibre 

Visitors, Guards, Servants, Galeriens, &c,, &c., &c. 

*^* Tlie Costumes are of the period of the latter part of tlie 
Ye\<n\ of Louis the Fourteenth. 




Of V 



r 



TO 

COLONEL HENEY G. STEBBINS, 

ONE OF THE EARLIEST AND FASTEST FRIENDS OF THIS 

g^mcruait dramatic ^mxh Association, 

Under ■whose Presidency, and mainly through whoso influence and unwearied 
exertion, the Society was enabled to commence its worl< of benevolence, 

THIS PLAY 

IS MOST CORDIALLY INSCRIBiiD. 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



This piece was written expressly for the intention indicated on 
the title-page.' C C\ , i ' 

It deals altocrether with imaginary characters, and although con- 
structed avowedly in Imitation of the modern "French School," 
owes its origin to no play, novel, story, or any other more im- 
portant source than the invention— such as it may be— of the 
individuals whose names are appended to it as 

THE AUTHORS 
New York, March 16, 1859. 



THE DARK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. 



ACT I. 

SCENE I. — Breakfast Room in the hotel of the Yiscomte de Ro- 
siERE. — A table spread. — Around it are seated Papillox, Musca- 
dine, TiREBoucHON, and other Servants. 

Papillon. Alas ! centlemen's gentlemen, the fatal intelligence is 
but too true ! — tlie bloom is off the i)lum of our existence, our sun 
has set — we have eaten our last bachelor meal — the inexorable fiend, 
matrimony has swullowecl our master — he is married ! 

All. Oh! 

Pap. Married, nobody knows whom. Married without consulting 
us ! We, who have spared him no expense to make his hotel the 
most liberal and enjoyable in the city ! 

Tirebouchon. Let's drink to his liberality, anyhow. [Drinks. . 

Pap. I call ui)on you to do something to show the indignation 
which should follow such outrageous conduct. 

Tir. That's my idea ; let's drink his best wine ! 

Pap. Shall we be so dead to all the finer feelings of humanity, as 
to enilure tamely, this — this — ah — tyratmical disieirard of our long 
establisheri privileges 1 — not that I see any precise way to help our- 
selves — but it's so pleasing to let one's anger mount into big sen- 
tences ! 

Tir. Let's help ourselves to the wine, anyhow. 

[Muscadine rises. — All applaud. 

Muscadine. Hem! — Ladies of the Household: — Friends and Fellow 
Sutterers : you have heard, fron the honied lips of our own butter- 
fly, that an individual — a woman — I may say, in fact, a voung female 
is ab>nit to be placed at the head of this establishment. You may 
have your feeliims upon the subject, but what can they be wlien 
cdinp.ued with mine 1 I, who have grown up since childhood with 
the Yiscomte. I, who looked upon myself as the possessor of 
everythiim, except the responsibility of ownership. I, who could 
come and 20, and do what I pleased, now to have the eye of a mis- 
tress upon my actions! 

Tir. Let's drink to the mistress's eye. 

Mus. For my part, my mind's made up, and I mean to be as im- 



6 THK DARK HOUR BEFORE BATTIT. 

pertinent to this intrusive female stranger, as it is possible for 
hoiu;eniai(l to \fe, within the limits of safety. [Sits. 

Pap. You don't mean to insinuate that would be a singular phe- 
nomenon 1 

Mas. Not among your impudent tribe ; you men are so conceited 
one would suppose the world belonged to you. 

Pap. Si.> it does. 

3!us. Indeed ! By what right, pray 1 

Pap. The right of possession. AVe were first on it, and if you 
had'nt taken a mean advantage of our very first slumber, to steal a 
fragment of our anatomy, you never would have been at all ; and, 
indeed, that bone too much in our original configuration, has beeu a 
bone of c<jnteiition ever since. 

lir. We'll drink to the bone, anyhow. 

Mus. And did'nt woman recomi)ense you by giving you her heart 
to cheer you, and her hand to heli)? 

Pap. That would have been ail very well, if she had'nt given her 
ear to the devil at ihe same time. 

Mus. Ah ! you're ungrateful reproliatos, all of you. 

Pap. So we are. Rosebud ; you gave us the first taste for fruit, 
and by Pomona ! our mouths have been watering for the dangerous 
dessert ever since. But that's a delicate subject, so we'll leave it to 
the philosophers. 

Tir. AYe'll drink to the dessert, anyhow. 

[.4 violent ring. — All start up. 

Pap. Who on earth is this 1 It can't bo the Viscomte 1 Confound 
it, its that purblind Baron De Trop, come at the wrong time, as he 
always does. 

Enter Baron De Trop. 

Baron. Ah ! — there you are — thought I should be the first to wel- 
come you — how do you do — you are looking extremely well after 
your accident — pshaw ! Excuse me — I mean your marriage. Where 
are those cursed spectacles 1 Ah ! I've left them at home, as usual. 
Never mind; I'm glad to see you — that is, I would be glad if I 
could. 

Pap. [Aside.] Takes me for my master ! AVe'U have some fun with 
the old mole. [Aloud.] Delighted to see you, Baron. 

Bar. Thank you — I knew you would. [Muscadine Zaw^'/ts.] What's 
that 1 I heard the twitter of a woman's laugh. It isn't the — 1 Eh,! 
you know. I can't see her — but I have four of my senses left. 
Lucky that I left my spectacles at home, or I should have died from 
a siu'feit of — oh — you know — the other element. Pretty compliment 
that, I think. 

Pap. Overpowering, Baron. Let me present you to her Royal 
Highness, the Duchess of Schnoutcnhoutenvonpoufenheimer ! 

Mus. [Snickering.] Pouf ! 

Bar. Delighted, I'm sme, to make the acquaintance of a lady 
U'ith so elongated a patronymic ! Ah ! Duchess, your name betrays 
your illustrious origin. It speaks of the sunny banks of the glorious 



TDE DARK HOUR BEFORE DAIVS. 7 

Rhine — it recalls to me the kind of — the land of — krout and sour 
beer — no, of beer and sour_ krout ; of curds and cheese — kase, as 
you say in your own romantic tongue — do you not, Duchess 1 

tMiis. Yah ! 

Jiar. Delicious idiom! — in anyone's mouth a melodious dialect; 
but upon your lips, Duchess, positively it gives me an idea of — a sort 
of foretaste of the music of — the spheres. It does, by Venus ! 

Jills. Oh, nein ! 

Bar. At least, I should say — we'll call it nine — [aside] I haven't 
the slishte.st idea what. I wonder if she's married. I'll ask her. 
[Aside] Duchess, is there a Duke of — a Duke of — in short, of what 
you are Duchess of] I declare, I've quite forgotten the — 

J/iiJi. [Aside.] Good giacious ! he doesn't expect me to remember 
it, does he? Here, Pa[)ilIon ; quick! What's my name "2 

]^np. Muscadine Cabassol. 

Mits. No, the otiier ; my royal highness' name, you know ; that 
tiling u-iih a heimer va Slinouten — 

Pap. Oh! I can't remember that. It was an inspiration; it can't 
be done again. 

Bar. Really, Duchess, it's singular; but for the life of me, I can't 
recall — 

Mas. What, did my name make so little impression on youl Oh, 
fie, Baron ! 

Bar. Well, 'pon my life — I declare — Oh I I'm sure I shall remem- 
ber. It was winey in its termination j it had a grapey fall. 
'Twasnt Ilockheimer 1 

JIus. Wliy, tliat's something to drink. 

?Vr. Theiv let's drink it, / say I 

Bar. [ T'o PAPfLLON ] Wlio's you friend 1 

Pap. I'll present you shortly. Baron. 

Bar. I shall be delighted, I'm sure. Oh, I have it !- — Johanis- 
bur>ier. 

Mas. Oh ! it's twice more longer again as dat. 

Pap. [ Whispering to Muscadine.] I have it — Shnoutenhoutenvon- 
poufeiiheimer. 

Mus. I'll bet you can't say it again. 

Pap. Slmoutenhoutenvonpoufenheimer. 

Mus. Ah, yes ! Baron, I'll assist you — Hooten-tooteii-shnouf.en- 
heimer. 

Bar. How stupid of me ! Of course — Pooten-pooten- [very loud] 
heimer! I knew it ended in lieimer. 

Mus. Yes, that's near enough, for all the good ifll do you. 

Pap. Baron, let me piesent onr friends. [Aside.] The stable-boy 
first. [Aloud.] The ^larquis de Frangipanni. [Aside.] Now the but- 
ler. [Aloud.] Tiie Duke de Chateauniargot, Baron de Vinordinaire. 

Bar. Deliiihted, sir, I'm sure. I've known several members of 
your family. [Aside.] Really, the Visconite receives the most choice 
society. 

Mus. Baron, won't you swallow a little somothing ] Here''s a mor- 



S THE DARK HOUR BEFORE DAtVIT. 

sel of pasty, cut for you by Frangipanni's own hands, [aside] and 
with his own knife. 

Har. I don't mind if I do. Illustrious pasty ! carved by a Fran- 
gipatini, and served up b}' a Pootenheimer ! — let nie absorb thee ! <, 
[Bell and whip-cracking heard without. 

Pap. Good lord, there's master 1 

Mas. And missis. 

Pap. Let's get the things out of the way ; quick ! 

[Great hnrry-skurry. — Papillon takes off cloth, with ei'ertjthing on 
it — Fraxgipanni drags CuATEAUMARGOTOMi — Muscadine snatches 
Baron's plate from him — consternation on the part o/Bakon, Sfc. 

Enter Viscomte de Rosiere and Cecile. 

Viscomte. At last, my love, we are at home. Here are the ser- 
vants to welcome us. Ah, Papillon ! Muscadine, you see I have 
brought you a mistress back. Cecile, this is Muscadine, your waiting- 
maid — a good girl, too. 

.Vus. Ah, madame ! we are so glad you have come. We have al- 
ways thought it such a pity that master didn't get married. 

Pap. Yes, ma'am, we were saying just now, not two minutes ago, 
me and Muscadine, how much pleasanter the house would be with a 
delicate female in it. 

Bar. [Aside.] What do I hear 1 The Pootenheimer turned lady's 
maid 1 

Cecile. Well, my good girl, I must try and not disappoint your ex- 
pectations. Will you show me to ray room 1 

Mus. Willingly, madame. 

Cec. I am going to look round the house a little, Edward. I have 
never seen a bachelor's establishment, you know. 

Jlus. Oh, madame ! everything at all bachelor has been scrupulously 
suppressed. We knew you was a-coming, ma'am. 

[Exeunt Muscadine a7id Cecile. 

Bar. lam absolutely brutified with stupefaction. 

Vis. Why, Baron ! excuse me, I did not see you. How are you 1 
How have you been during the past fortnight 1 

Bar. Go away ! Go away ! 

Vis. Hey, Baron ! what's this 1 

Bar. [Excitedly ] I swear it's too bad ! I never leave my specta- 
cles at home — which I do pretty much all the time — but everybody 
makes game of me, and comes all sorts of jokes over me. Here have 
I been hobnobbing with counts and duchesses, and curse me, if I 
don't believe it was your precious servants! But let them tremble, 
Viscomte, [Going.] let them oscillate with terror; [At door.] lam 
going to get — 

Vis. What 1 The police 1 

Bar. No! My spectacles ! Ho! ho! [Exit. 

Pap. [Trembling hurlesquely.] I'm oscillating all over ! 

Vis. Papillion, run immediately to the house of my cousin, Alfred 
de Senneville, and request him to come here at once. You may tell 



THE DAUK HOUR BEFOKE DAWX. 9 

him of my marriage, for I did'ntcare about breakinji the ill news to 
him mjself. 

Pap. Ill news 1 

Vis. Yes, to him. He expected me to die early and to make liim 
my heir. 

Pap. I fly, my lord. [ i.side.\ Now I'll make this cousin, oscil- 
late. {Exit Papillon. 

Vis. I expect an explosion from that young man, and, in fact, it is 
the only anxiety I have in connection with my marriage, for I almost 
promised him, in one of my misanthropic fits, to allow my estate to 
revert to his branch of the family. However, there's no lielp for it 
now. But where can Joseph, my wife's brother be, I wonder ? 

Re-enter Cecile. 

Cec. A very well ordered house, Edward, a place for everything 
and everything in its jjlace. It's too large, though — too grand. I 
am afraid my country eyes and country habits will never become ac- 
customed to the change, We lived so differently at home, you 
know. 

Vis. That puts me in mind of a matter of which I ought to have 
spoken to you before, Cecile, one concerning your brother. 

Cec. My brother "? 

Vis. You know, love, that there has been a great difierencc be- 
tween your education and his. You were brought up iu a convent, 
and habituated from your earliest years to the usages of society, and 
to the refinements of conventional life, and I have never for an in- 
stant doubted your ability to sustain your rank creditably in the sa- 
loons of Paris. But it is not so with your brother, whose onlj- 
education has been that of the farmhouse, and whose manners are 
those of the field. If he were known to be your brother, he would 
act as a drag upon you, besides being constantly in a false position- 
himself. 

Cec. Poor Joseph ! What do your propose doing then, Edward 1 

Vis. Let him be presented to our household as the late Steward of 
your estate at home, now promoted to the Intendancy of our 
hotel in town. 

Cec. Oh, my poor brother ! But what will he say to this arrange- 
ment, do you think? 

Vis. Hei e he comes, let him speak for himself. 

Enter Joseph La Tour, with stick. 

La Tour. Well, here we are in Paris, sister, thanks to our good 
brother-in-law, who would transplant us from our quiet little country 
garden, to this great entangling foi est of brick and stone. By St. 
Denis ! I nearly lost my head from bewilderment wliile making my 
way here. I can't say much for your hall servants' manners, my 
lord brother-in-law. He was for kee{)ing me on the wrong side of 
the door, until I stirred up his politeness with this. [Shaking stick.\ 
AVanted to know who I was, but I soon satisfied him that it was none 
of his business who I was. " Ob, you came with his lordship, may- 



10 TUIE DARK HOUR BEFORK DATTN. 

be 1" said the fellow, nibbing liis pate wliere I had let the manners 
into his thick skull — " you'll soon find out, my saucy friend," said 1. 
Then ui) comes a donkey-faced jack a-dandy and betran brayina at 
nie, and uantuia to know " what odor of turnip-fed rusticity saluted 
his delicate uerves.'' I just pointed to my explainer, and he tripped 
away like a dancing-master. 1 do believe, my lord brother-in-law, 
that these ignorant louts take me to be a sort of upper servant to 
my lady sister and yourself. Ha ! lia I 

Vis. Perhaps it's better that Ihey should. 

La T. What ! 

Vis. Nay, hear me out, Joseph ; you are a sensible lad, and it is 
in reference to this very subject that Cecile and I wish to speak to 
you. You will not take oflense, I'm sure, where none is meant, but 
sui){)ose you I'epresent yourself to be, for a time merely, what the 
household have taken you for — the Steward orlntendent of the hotel 
— until you acquire, as with your habits of observation you soon 
v.iil. the exteinal graces and fiuish which custom requires gentlemen 
to possess. 

La T. AVhy, look ye, Yiscomte, if I am not good enough to show 
my face along with you and sister, why did'ut ye leave us alone in 
the country wliere you found us"? 

Cec. Now, brother dear, don't speak so harshly to Edward ; he is 
only doing it for your good. 

Vis. La Tour, I liave no false pride. It is not on my account that 
I make the proposition. I am perfectly willing — nay, I should be 
l>roud to acknowledge you as my biother, and recognize my relationship 
to one wliom I look ui)on as a yeoman prince; but I cannot force the 
Parisians, with tlieir caustic wit, to admire you as much as I do. 

La T. Well, after all, what do I care for anything but the happi- 
ness of my dear Cecile 1 How long will it take to {jolish me up like a 
fine Hentleman 1 

Vis. Six months, perhaps. 

La T. And how does a steward — or an intendant, as ye call it — 
pass away the time ? What must I do, in short, for my wages 1 

Vis. Well, as we don't pay you any wages, we won't exact any du- 
ties of you. There shall be a sub-intendant to do the work. 

La T. No, no; if I wear the title, I'll discharge the duties. What 
are they 1 

Vis. Well, you must furnish the stores required for the house and 
the stable, keep the accounts, pay the bills, engage the ser- 
vants — 

La T. Can I make love to the servant-girls 1 

Cec. Oil, Joseph! how can you'i 

Lm T. There's a mighty pretty one, I notice. I'll practice my gcn- 
tililv on her. 

Vis. You must look out for Papillon, then ; fof he asserts a prior 
claim to Madeinoij:ello Muscadine. 

La T. Well, Viscouile, I'll bo your steward till I've learned my 
manners; iiud lieiv's my hand upon it. [Professionally.^ What will 
your lordship be pleased to order for dinner 1 



THE DARK HOUR BEFORE PAWN. 11 

Enter Papillon. 

Pap. Mon-^iciir AltVeil de Seimcville is in the ante-room, and (iesiios 
an iiiieiview Willi jMoiNJeur le Vist-onite. [Aside <o Viscomte.J I. 
tolil liini llie news, and he's in a dieadful rase. 

Vis I exjjecied as much. Cecile, my love, retire with Josei)li to 
tiie next room, till I have ])repared our consin to receive you. He's 
a fiery yonriLr niai., and iias been badly disajjpointed. 

La T. {With mock gravity J What hour will your lordshii) dine 1 

Vis. [Imitating him.] Wtienever dinner is ready. 

[Exeunt Cecile and La Took. 

Pap. So, so ; our new intendant. I llKJUght there was a flavor of . 
domesticity about him. 

Vis. Well, I'm glad to see him take it in such good part, at any 
rate. 

Pap. [Announcing] IMonsiour Alfred de Senneville. 

Enter De Sexneville. 

Vis. Cousin. I am glad to see you. [Offers hand. 

De Senneville. [Refusing hand.] Is this news true, Viscomie ? 

Vis. It is true that I am married, if you refer to that 

De S. You are the first of your name, sir, who ever broke his 
word. 

Vis. [Restraining himself.] I am the first of my name, too, who 
ever failed to revenge an insult. But I have not broken my word, 
and that you well know. 

De S. You prouiised never to marry. 

Vis. I said it was unlikely I should ever marry; and I promised, 
in that case, to make no will, but to suffer my estate to pass to you, 
my next of kin and heir at law. I have clianged my mind, as I had 
a right to do, and I have summoned you here to present you to my 
wife. Are you ready to receive her 1 

De S. [Aside.] l\\ insult her to her face ! [Aloud.] Bring her 
forth, Viscomte ; I am ready to receive her. [Aside.] I'll be cruelly 
revenged I 

ViscojrrE leads forth Cecile. 

Vis. Alfred de Senneville, 1 have the pleasure of presenting you to 
my wife, the Yicomtesse de Rosiere. 

[De Senneville turns his back upon her — Cecile drops her head in 
her hands — Yiscomte seizes De Senneville. 

Enter La Tour, ivith napkin on his arm. 
La T. Dinner ! 
Pap. [Announcing.] The Baron de Trop. 

Enter Baron. 
Bar. How d'ye dol How are you 1 I've got my spectacles. 
Tableau. 

END OF ACT I. 



12 THE DARK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. 



ACT II. 

SCENE I. — Apartment at De Senneville's. 

JSiiter Chevalier De Meschin, Le Viscompte Fkeluquet, and 
De Merluche. 

De Merluche. Bad news, tin's, for De Senneville. 

IJe Meschin. Miu'li worse for us, De Merluche. 

Frehiqitet. [Combing wig hy hand mirror.] Ruinous for me. By 
the bones of uiy ancestors, he owes me two thousand louis. 

De Mer. I have advanced him five thousand. 

Fre. Poor devil ! 

De Mex. And I three thousand. 
— Fre. An unrtone i)arty, by the shade of King Pharaoh ! Confound 
the fellow, he told me his cousin, the Visconite, was irredeemably 
consumptive, and incurably misoijamic ; on the contrary I find him 
dissusiiniily healthy, and inconveniently u.Korious. 

De Mer. Its an abominable trap. 

De Mes. A dissi'aceful cheat. 

Fre. Nay, I'll do him the credit to say this untoward affair is as 
unexpected by him as it is by us, nor is he the man to remain inac- 
tive under the circumstances. He's a ready-witted and unscrupulous 
fellow, quick at inventioa and fertile in resoui'cas. I'll "gage my 
kniiihtbood he'll wriggle out of the difficulty somehow. 

De Mer. I don't care what he does, so he manages to wiiggle mo 
out my five thousand louis. Egad, hero he comes with a thunder 
cloud on his brow. 

Enter De Senneville. 

De S. Ah ! you have heard of this precious marriage, I perceive 1 

De Mer. Yes, my dear fellow — ill news travels fast. 

Fre. We were just deploring the catastrophe, Alfred, and minghng 
our condolements together. 

De S. Most disinterestedly, of course, as one's dear friends always 
do, especially when they hold little obligations rendered somewhat 
doubtful by the shuffling of fortune's cards. 

De Mer. Well, to say the truth, Alfred, the idea did enter slightly 
into our calculations. 

De S. Ha ! you ihouaht, perhajjs, that I was tame fool enough to 
lie quietly down, and let the wheels of destiny roll over me ; but, no ; 
not while I have wit to plot and strength to execute. I have hated 
him ever since his canting uncle, and mine, on the plea of my loose 
life, as ho was good eaough to designate it, robb'ed me of ray right, 



THE DAKK UOITK BEFORK TAWX 18 

and left him all. Ali, be assured that I liave not for<;oUen ! I will 
have revf'iise ! I only want sf)nie subtle means to brins it about. 
His weak jjoiiit is the unsullied honor of his name. I'll work on 
that — to fix. suspicion of a stain upon his wife, would be to make 
him loose her even from his very heart strings. If you will but join 
Willi mo. the end is certain, and will trebly pay you. 

Fre. My dear fellow, don't mention that. 

De Mer. By no means. 

De Mfs. Our friendship oidy urges us to aid you in the recovery of 
your right. 

De S. Call it what you like, for my part I scorn to wear a 
mask ; you shall not be compromised a tittle — on my own head be 
the entire resijonsibility. Silence is all that I demand ; a sigu — a 
look, at the proper moment, will be aid sufficient. Is it agreed 7 

All. Agreed ! \They shake hands. 

De S. Enough ! 1 know a conscienceless scamp, who, for sufficient 
pay. would undertake the darkest villainy. One La F<jrce, a fellow 
of good family and consummate address, hut a double-dj'ed rascal. I 
have learnt he has just come back from a long service in the gal- 
leys. My anger got the better of my discretion, at the intro- 
duction of the Viscomtess, but I have patched up a reconcilia- 
tion, and we are f'iends again. There is to be a formal recejitiou 
this evening — of course you will all attend — so shall I. Farewell 
till then. Mark what occurs, and take your cue therefrom. 

Fre. Depend upon us. [Exeunt. 



SCENE 11. — Interior of a poor cabaret. — Papa Chauve-Sooris dis- 
covered at head of table surrounded by Pierre Le Bellete, Tre- 
BDcuET, Gkiffk, Coup Jarret, Poi.nt de Quepe, S^c. 

SONG AND CHORUS.— Pa2>a Cliauve-Souris. 

To all honest rogues in the world, fill high, 
Who no sheepskin garments wear, 

iSut boldly cry 

As the lambs pass by, 
AVe are wolves ! of our teeth beware. 

Then sing and drink, 

Till the tired stars wink. 
And care into limbo fling ; 

For a clinking song 

Helps time along, 
It's a very, very jovial thing. 

"With a ding, ding, dong, 

Dong, dong, ding! 
Merry, merry let the glass bells ring. 



14 THE TjARK HODR EEI'OKK PAWN. 

To all fearless hearts throufrh the woihl, brave boys, 
Now a foainins bumper fill ; 

Lei fools split straws, 
But a fin; for their laws, 
We have none but our own good will. 
Then sing and drink, &c.. 
That's right — jolly dogs ! Fling care to the four winds. Here's 
your true joy-inspirer ! pass it round, and be merry. Here's confusion 
to the hobbling old Jezabel, Dame Justice — and may she always be 
a day's march behind us ! 

Ah. Hurrah! 

Bellete. Say rather before us, old bo}', for then we ueed'nt overtake 
her unless we desire it. 

Trebuchet. Tete de Diablfe 1 I'd rather the old beldame kept out 
of the ivay altogether. 

Papa. Pshaw! there's no fear. She has'nt been seen about here 
lately. 

Btl. They say Mazarin has sent her to the Blind Ho.spital, to have 
her eyes attended to. 

Papa. More likely to have the bandage tied a little tishter. 

Treh. Tiie Doctor's will take care of thai ! It would be incoven- 
ient to them, if she saw too cleai'ly. 

Papa. Failh, if she did, there's no knowing what murders would 
come to light : a bolus is as good as a bullet sometimes. 

Bel. Come, come, you must'nt libel the faculty. Bless you, they 
never kill patients, they only lose then;. 

Papa. That's true, and as they are only tried by a jury of doctors, 
the verdict is pretty sure to be justifiable homicide: — but has any- 
body seen La Force to-day 1 His little retirement at that fashiona- 
ble watering place, has given him health, if not wealth. Exercise is 
wholesome. Ah : I remember him a swashing blade — the idol of the 
feminines and the pride of the Boulevards ! What a daintj' rascal he 
Avas to be sure ! 

Treb. What was he sent to the gallies fori 

Papa. A trifle of amateur surgery, that's all. An over particular 
individual objected to the peculiarity of his play, at Rouge et Noir, 
one evening, and got so hot-blooded about it, that La Force found it 
necessary to cool him, by letting it all out with an unprofessional 
lancet. 

Bel. Ah! that's the inconvenience of not being in regular practice. 

[La Force sings without. 

Papa. Ah ! here he comes ! let us receive His Majesty of the 
Galleys, with all honor. 

Enter La Force — a picturesque ragamuffin. All cheers, and gather 
round him, shouting- 
All. Long live the King of the Galleys. 

La Force. My beloved subjects — this cordial welcome touches our 
royal heart. It rejoices us, on returning from the somewhat pro- 
tracted Tisii to our jnarine palace, to find yoiu" loyalty unshaken. 



TIIK HARK liOtTR UKFORK DAWN. 15 

Althouah it is usual in a speech from the Tiirone, to indulge in diplo- 
matic anibiauily, and contrive to sny nolliiiig particular, in as many 
words as possible, ue shall not follow the example of our cousins of 
the kinaly family, but say what we mean, utterly disregarding the 
delicate susceptibility of the public funds. Our crown is safe : we 
have wHirn it since infancy, and it sits easy on our shoulders. We 
care not for domestic treason, or the plots of rival statesmen, but 
reign o'er honest rascals, true to one another, and to crown all, our 
treasuiy is free from peculation, the only one that is, because there's 
nothing in it. 

All. Hurrah ! hurrah ! 

Papa. May I presume to inquire if your Majesty has had any luck 
to-day i 

La F. You mean in raising the supplies'? Not much. A worthy 
bourgeoise was kind enough to assist us with a small amount. We 
didn't ask him, yet he felt obliged to leave a little in our hands — we 
took it. but regret to say the donor didn't wait for us to thank him. 
[Throws -purse to Papa. J A lovely damsel, too, bewildered by our 
close attention, lost her heart, besides this slight memorial. In a 
moment of abstraction she parted with it, entirely heedless of the 
sacrifice she made. By the light handed Mercury, and Venus the 
lighter hearted, we're not past conquest yet. 

Papa. Faith, so it seeius ! a })retty keepsake that. 

La F. What ] do your palms begin to itch, and your red eyes snap, 
old greedy. 

Papa. [Aside.] Diamonds ! big diamonds, as I'm alive. 

La F. There, take it, Demogorgon ! you know it's value to the 
last shadow of a grain. I never shall, until you tell me when I'vo 
melted it within this fiery alembic. [Drinks. 

Papa. Ah ! we shall thiive now-, since you have returned. Bless 
me! I thought they were diamonds. [Rubbing with sleeve. 

La F. \_Starting to his feet.] And so they are. old Cheat-the-devil ! 
Peste ! w'ould you try your tricks on me '? 

Papa. Yes, yes; I see they are now, but of small value — dim and 
full of flaws. 

Za F. Why, what a pity ! Give it me back ; it isn't worth your 
notice. 

Papa. There now, how quick you are ! I'll turn it to account, and 
give you the full value, be assured. 

La F. No, no ; your chance has passed. Come, give it up, you 
miserly old harpy ! You knov/ I'm obstinate, and somewhat dan- 
gerous, when crossed or played with. 

Papa. I won't I I won't ! You shall have months, nay, years of 
drink and lodging for it. It is of value. I confess the lie. Abuse 
nie, pummel me, but let mo. keep it — oh ! let me keep it. 

Ija F. 1 tell you, no! You've roused the tiger in me. Restore 
me that trinket, or I'll cut it from your miserable heart. 

[General movevient. — A sharp knock at the door — all alarmed, 
crouch xfito camera, and conceal themselves — others sit quietly at ta- 
ble — La Force hides. 



16 THE DARK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. 

Papa. The saints be praised ! Oh, should it be the hawks of 
justice ! 

La F. Beware! [Papa unboUs door- 

ALFRED DE Senneville enters, disguised in large roquelaire and 
slouched hat. 

De S. Pardon this intrusion, mj' honest friend. I seek one Mon- 
sieur La Force, who, I am infornaed, sometimes visits here. 

Papa. He does, sir — 

La F. [Interrupting ] Stay, I know the person he inquires after; 
let me answer iiim. Proceed, sir, with your question. 

De S It is simply to ask if lie I seek is here at present. 

La F. Faith, if your pur[)ose is a friendly one, he might bo found 
without much trouble. But if not — 

Be S. Well, and if nof? 

La F. Ventre St. Gris ! you know not the brotherhood that calls 
him chief, or you might have sense enough to guess. 

[Touches his knife. 

De S. You mean, my throat might be in danger! 

La F. I regret to say that such desperate contingency would then 
be not at all unlikely. 

De S. Perdie ! I knew the ticklish ground I had to tread upon, 
and cnme not here, believe rae, without due precaution. 

Treb. [Rushing forwa^'d with others.] What, does he threaten us 1 
Down with him 1 

La F. Pooh ! pooh ! Restrain your anger, my impetuous friends. 
Most e.xcellent sir, will you extend your courtesy so far as to inform 
us what induced the honor of this unexpected visit 1 

De S. Pardon me, but that concerns him only that I am in quest 
of. 

La F. Then pray relieve your lungs at once, sir, for he stands be- 
fore you. 

De Sen. I thought so. I was sure of it. That heroic air conviuces 
me. Let me pay homage to the adventurous spirit of whose bold ex- 
ploits I've heard so much. 

La F. Oh, sir ! ycu overcome me quite. [Aside.] The fool haa 
shown his hand. I know his game — he wants me. 

De 8. I mean to do you a service. 

Jja F. [Aside.] I'll warrant that; but not for nothing, I'll be sworn. 

De S. Could we not have some talk alone 1 

La F. One moment, if you please. Pray don't accuse me of indel- 
icacy — a mere routine, that's all. [Talcing out Alfred's sit'ort^.] A fine 
blade ! Here, Papa, be careful of his excellency's sword. Why, 
what a charming ornament! [Takes poniard-] Spanish, I think. 
These gentlemen are fond of curious workmanship ; they'll just ex- 
amine these apart, while we converse. No harm shall come to them, 
I pledge my honor. [All go off, examining swords, singing refrain 
of chorus. Alfred somewhat annoyed.] You mustn't think liarshly 
of my children's playful habits. And now. Monsieur, we are alone, 
let me entreat you to be explicit, and above all things, frank and open. 



THE DARK HO0R BEFOKB DAWN. 17 

Dissimulation or word-fencing will be waste of time and breath. To 
put you a*, your ease at once, let nie premise that I'm a gen- 
ileman of wit and leisure, somewhat bruised and frayed, indeed, by 
falling from a social height, perhaps as lofty as your own — but let 
that pass. When station stoops to such companionship as this, 
and shows itself within the market-place of crime, it can be only as a 
purchaser. Well, you know the merchandise in which we deal. 
Don't fear eavesdroppers. What do yon require? 

IJe S. Most clear and business-like, I must confess. Tonieet you, 
tlien, on equal grounds, I am desirous of using j'our wit and leisure 
for a lilUe time. Both shall be well rewarded. 

La F. Ah ! now you're interesting. Proceed, monsieur, my ears 
are sharpened. Wiiat kitid of service do you want 1 

De S. An easy one. — and void of every risk. 

La F. Yes, yes — of course. When souls follow the devil's finger- 
post, tiic road is always smooth at first. Go on. 

De S. To come, then, to the point at once — I simply wish to have 
a womati compromised. 

La F. An iimocent one 1 

Be S. The woi Id believes so, but our creed ignores such a phr 
nomenon. 

La F. And young? 

De S. But just i)ast girlhood. 

La F. Unmarried 1 

De S. No, a recent wife. 

La F. And happy in her choice, no doubt — hum ! In the flrsl 
dawn of life, and love, and joy — to be destroyed forever. I wish you 
had desired some other service. Wliy, man, it's equal to a score ol 
simple murders. A sudden plunge with the red hand and there's an 
end. But here, every life-breath for the long years to come, will be 
a separate stab ! If life and honor are both quenched at once, the 
means are merciful that bring oblivion; but to kill the soul only, and 
still suffer the heart to throb, and the brain to work ! — I would you 
had not asked me to do this. 

De S. Pshaw! man. Why, is it not done daily for mere pastime 1 
Don't reputations hang upon the lips of fools and gossips, every- 
where 1 I little thought to find such scruples here ; no matter — it's 
of little moment — think no more of what I said. [Gomg. 

La F- Softly, sir — don't misunderstand me. I'm ready to do any 
devil's work the fiend thrusts in my way. for fate has made me des- 
perate. I only put it in the strongest light, in hope that the great 
strain upon my conscience would be considered, wlien we touch upon 
the pecuniary. 

De S. You shall be amply paid. 

La F. The sum — the definite sum ! There's nothing so encourag- 
ing as to see in perspective, a good round total, except, perhaps, the 
pleasing certainty of a present instalment. To say tlie truth, my 
wardrobe lacks variety. The social world has claims which should 
be respected. 

De S. It will be absolutely necessary for you to have the appear- 



18 THE DAKK HOUR BEFORK DAWN. 

ance of a man of rank. Here are 100 louis rl'or — so pray equip at 
once. A few moments of \-onr time cmi)liiye<l lliis eveniiifj, as. I sliall 
dictate, will be all J shall require, then claim from me a thousand 
more. Are you satisfied 1 

La F. Almost. Will the effect of that which j-ou would liave me 
do, be certain 1 

De S. As sure as destiny ! 

La F. Then you can ha.e no objection to sign an obligation for 
the residue 1 A mere debt of honor, you know, can compromise no 
one. There's nothing like being particular in money matters. 

[They go to table, as Alfred is signing, scene closes. 

SCENE III. — Anie-charnher in the Hotel de Rosiere. Front scene — 

about 2d grooves. 

Enter Papillox and Muscadine, /ro??i opposite sides. 

Pap. Cofound these sudden household revolutions — they interfere 
sadly with gentlemen of fi.xed habits- Our whole establisliment is 
in a most perjjlexing state of confusion. 

Mus. Abominably unendurable. For my part, I liave a great mind 
to tender my resignation. 

Pap Perfidious rose-bud I you have nothing of the kind. Ah ! 
V/omaii ! woman ! 

Mus. Why, what's the matter with you, butteifly 1 

Pap. You know, you know. Ah ! when the fabric of a man's 
felicity is assailed, he's very likely to keep a sharp look-out. Rose- 
bud — you're affectionate insect sees himself about to be crushed by 
the rude hand of destiny. 

Mus. Don't be absurd, butterfly ! what are you talking about 1 

Pap Delicious, but distracting mouthful jf feminine deception. 
Do you suppose I didn't see this great gray moth of an intendant, 
this new country fly, buzzing about you, and looking awkward love 
out of his dull liornej' eyes. 

Mus. You saw all that, did you — and if the man chooses to admire 
rae, can I help it 1 

Pax>. Ah, losebud, when I wear you in my breast, as you have 
promised I shall one of these days, let the nose beware that ventures 
near enough to scent the perfume. 

Mus. How poetical our butterfly has become. I have no tiine fo 
listen to such nonsense. The Viscomtesse is preparing for the recep- 
tion, and I must go to her. 

Pap. Won't you bless your insect by telling him your heart is his, 
before you leave ? 

Mus. Well, yes — I believe so I there, go along, I've told you so a 
thousand times. 

lap. [Capers about.] Then a fig for all the moths and flies ! my 
wings expand — I rise above them — up, up, among the sun-rays and 
the cupids, to warm myself a while, and then to settle down upon 
these dewy rose-leaves. [Kisses her. 



THE PARK noun BEFOKE TiA^'N. "It^ 

Baron de Trop enters. 

Bar. Don't let me inlernipt you, Visconite. [Muscadixe and Pa- 
PILLON sneak off.] I belipve I'm early — always likt> to be in-a-lime ; 
deuce take those spectacles! })ray excuse mo, 1 must no back. [Going, 
encounters La Tour, who enters.] How do you no ! I'm <;lad to see 
you. [La Tour wiihdr-iw s hand.] Ah — ah ! yes, bless me, 1 don't 
recollect! who have I the pleasure to address! 

La Tour. The Viscorate's Intendant, Baron. 

Bar. Is it jiossible 1 well — I declare, so it is. You didn't happen 
to see a pair of spectacles, but I forgot, they must be at my hotel ! 
good mornina. [E.Tit. 

La T. Ah! here comes my dear Cecile, looking like an angel, as 
she is. [Goes to meet Cecile, who enters.] — Be looks around, then 
embraces her.] — Oh, how my rustic heart glows to see thee a great 
lady. Our dear dead mother said it would be so — aye, and I'll bet 
our old silver-haired father, at home, weeps tears of joy, at this very 
juomeat, just as I do 

Cec. Bless you, my good brother, for all your love and kindness to 
me. I am indeed hap])y. hap])}' beyond expression ; not for the rank 
to which heaven's providence has elevated me, but for that richer 
gift, the noble and true heart which would make any station glorious. 
It pains me, though, to see you, my brother, in this habit and con- 
dition, even for a time, and to know that while my lightest thought 
is anticipated, you may be subject to some slight. 

La T. Ha, ha ! my sim[)le sister, you seem to think tliat 
the drawing-room department is tlie controlUng power. Not 
a bit of it ; the kitchen is the head of the domestic 
kingdom. I have been in my present situation just long 
enough to know where the real authority lies, who distributes the pa- 
tronage, and absorbs the revenues. By St. Lawrence of the Grid- 
iron! but if my lord, the Cardinal Minister wished a lesson in 
diplomacy, he could'nt do better than consult a congress of cooks ; 
no, no, thank you, I am the head of the lower house, and though the 
upper one may have the responsibility of supplying the finances, we 
have the profitable amusement of making it fly among our favorites, 
with a liberal percentage on the outla}'. 

Cec. Yet still I would much rather see you near me, in your pro- 
per character. 

La T. In good time, dear Cecile. I think I may he of use where 
I am, until the country rust rubs ofT a little. Sapristie! I should bo 
as much out of i)lace among these silken lordlings, as a beetle in a 
bee-hive, and might get more sting than honey. My gentility is in 
the rough just at present, we must have it cut and polished by de- 
grees. 

Cec. Ah, Joseph, I don't wish to see you changed a morsel, but bo 
always, what you have ever been to me, my own true, honest- 
hearted, sim[)le country brother, and good friend. 

La T. Tete de St. Denis ! there's no fear of such a change as that ; 
your fine, courtly braveries can't alter me so foolishly as to wear my 



20 THE DARK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. 

gizzard outside, like a trussed tuikey ; no, no, Cecile, if j'ou remain, 
as I am sure yon will, tlio ornament and lionor of our humble name, 
I'll be contented, cloud as I am, near your brightness, to keep my 
sunny side liidden from the world's eye. 
Cec. My own dear, dear Joseph ! 

They embrace as De Trop enters. 

Bar. I've got them — eh ! Bless my soul ! phew ! is'nt that the In- 
tendant 1 — and — mercy on me ! the bride ! I'm paralyzed ! 

[Gets behind wing. — He is unseen by Cecile and La Tour. 

Cec. Fortune has blessed me, indeed, in your devoted love, dear 
Joseph. Believe me, I am grateful for it, and happy beyond 
thought. 

Bj,r. [Aside."] Joseph, eh ! — prenez garde. Viscomte Potiphar. 

La T. Ha, ha ! I laugh, Cecile, to think how little the fools and 
fopliiigs that flutter round, know of the strong link that binds the 
radiant mistres and her humble servant, and how, amidst the brilli- 
ancy and joy of this night's fete, one heart they little can suspect, will 
throb with pride and happiness, made more intense from its very 
secrecy and self-enjoyment. 

Bar. [Aside.\ Bravo! Monsieur Joseph! your cloak is not in 
danger, it would seem. 

La T. I think I hear the visitors begin to arrive. It will be neces- 
sary for us to part, Cecile, and wear a little time our separate char- 
acters, or we may have that pur-blind. Baron blundering upon us. 

Bar. [Aside.] Ah ! that's pleasant — but there's a proverb about 
listeners — I ought to have known it. 

ia T. And so Madame La Viscomtesse, I humbly kiss your hand. 

Cec. Monsieur L'Intendant — an revoir. [Exeunt, laughing. 

Bar. [Comes forward.] Well, I'm petrified! I think I may venture 
to go solar as to say pulverized. I can't be mistaken this time — for 
I've got my spectacles. Alas! for us open hearted, credulous, and 
unsuspecting men. Who are we to trust 1 a fellow smuggled into 
the house as a servant! I thouglit there was a mystery in his man- 
ner ! but something must be done — honor, friendship, propriety, 
urge me to rush instantly to the Viscomte. I Avill — no, I won't — it 
would be a pity to interrupt the fete ; they do say the cuisine is irre- 
proachable, and the cellar marvellous ! time enough, but I must keep 
my eyes — I mean my spectacles about me. The scoundrel! I won't 
give him any quarter, after supper. [Exit. 

SCENE IV. — The reception room in the Hotel de Rosiere, magnifi- 
cently decorated. 
The Viscomte and Viscomtesse discovered receiving the company. 
La Tour, icith wand, as intendant, announces. 

Music. — De Trop blunders in putting the guests in confusion. 

Bar. [Litroduced.] I beg ten thousand — I — ah, that is lo i&ay — 
what superb nonchalance ! it's beautiful to look at. 
Vis. You seem agitated, Binon. 



THE DARK HOOH BEFORE DAWN. 21 

Bar. Ohdcar.no. AVIiy sliould I ? wlint i.s it to me 1 A little 
preoccupied — a kind of siii prise, just now — tliat's all. Poor Poti- 
l)Iiar ! [Goes towards ¥rei.\3Civei: andlslETiijVCU'E.'] Ah! I'm very 
glad to see you lookina; so well — ah — why it is'iit you — I mean — 
where the deuce are those spectacles 1 just now, when I want them 
most of alL 

Fre. How are you, Baron 1 

Bar. Oil ! there you are — you are very kind. I'm really very 
glad to see you — you're looking uncommonly well — never saw so 
great an improvement. Who is that 1 [2^o Meeluche. 

Mer. Why, don't you know Freluquet, the lady-killer "? 

Bar. To be sure — delighted — thought it was you. 

Fre. Have you been introduced to tlie Viscomtesse, Baron "? 

Car. Yes, I believe — that is — I hardly know — oh ! you mean the 
bride 1 

Fre. Precisely. Is she not charming? 

Bar. Well, I think not — I mean — Oh! if I dared only tell them. 
Hush ! I know something! 

Fre. Wlial, about the Viscomtess 1 

Bar. E.xactly — and — oh! — but never mind — all I shall say is — 
wait — wait ! 

La T. [Announces.] Le Marquis de Mousserron ! Monsieur De 
l\Ieschin I and ilie Count Alfred de Senneville ! 

They enter. — La Force as the Marquis. 

De S. Pardon me, my dear cousin, for being so late, but my friend 
De Mescliin, and I had an appointment which it was impossible to 
avoid. 

De Mes. But which we ended as rapidly as we could, Viscomte, 
that we might have the pleasure of being presented to your lovely 
briiie. Apropos — I prevailed upon our friend, the Marquis, to ac- 
coini)any us. Allow me to introduce him. Yiscomte de Rosiere, the 
Marquis de Mousseron. 

Vis. I am hapi)y to see you, Marquis — let me present my wife. 
[La Force hows, and seems to recognize Ckcile, but with a slight 
gesture. 

La F. Madame Le Vicomtesse, pray accept my most sincere con- 
gratulations. 

Vis. [Slightly agitated.] You and my wife have met before. Mar- 
quis, it would appear 1 

La F. Ell ! pardon me — I was thinking of — what did you observe, 
VisconUel 

Vis. [Quietly.] I said that your look seemed to infer that you had 
met elsewhere. 

La F. Oh ! dear, no, it's quite a mistake, I assure you. I confess 
a slight resemblance somewhat startled me, at first — but pray don't 
let it disarrange your festival. I was wrong to recognize, that is to 
betray any emotion at the fancied similitude. I beg a thousand par- 



22 THK DARK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. 

dons ot the larly, and I entreat yon, sir, to think no more of this 
absurd interiuption. [Aside to Cecile.J Don't be alarmed, my dear, 
tlie becret's sate \vitli me. 

Cec. Secret! what do you mean, sir 1 I have no secret, nor do I 
know who you are. 

La F. [Aside to her.] Imprudent woman ! you will betray 
yourself. 

Vis- Vou must be well aware, sir, that this conduct demands an 
i^xplunalion. Be pleased to tell me, explicitly, if you have known 
this lady before to-ni^ht, or not 1 

La F. I pledge you, my honor, my dear Viscomte, nothing was 
furiher from my thouojits than to wound in the remotest degree, her 
ladysliip'.s susceiitibility. 

Vis. Am 1 to understand, sir, that you will not answer my 
question 1 

La F. You surely understand, Viscomte, that a man of honor must 
yield nothing to comjiulsion. I will be judged by your friends if I 
have done aught to justify your reqtiest to me. You can't imagine 
tliat, even if I did know anything detrimental to her ladyship's fail 
fame, I should be such a dastard as to avow it. 

Vis. Tliis is mere special pleadnig, sir. Will you oblige me with a 
definite answer ! I ask it cointeously, and as my simple right. 

La F. In that case, sir, I liave no hesitation in saying, no! this 
lady and I have never met before. 

Vis. You have ! you have — I can't be deceived ; 'tis but your obli- 
gation and sense of honor urges you to the denial, but there is a tone 
of irony in your words, that sufficiently contradicts their import. 

La F. If your overstrained sensibility should so construe my 
words, you must allow that I am not to blame. 

Vis. The trutl:, sir, the truth ! I will hear it at all hazard — I make 
no issue with you, whatever it may be — Cecile. 

Cec. Oh ! my ktisband, my true lord and love ! have pity on me, 
and i)rotect me ; I know not what I say or do, — bewildered, stunned, 
most innocent of any wrong in thought or deed, and yet this man ad- 
dresses me with words that buru like wounded shame ; and as I live 
and breathe, I know liira not. 

La F. Did I not say so ] now, I trust you're satisfied. 

Vis. No, I am not ! you've set my heart upon the rack, and said 
too much, or else too little. There is a secret, and I must know it. 

Cec. I fear not what he says, secure in my own innocence, and in 
the miaht of Heaven's justice, I can defy the tongue of slander. 

La F. Since you assume this lofty tone, Cecile La Tour — 

Vi.'>. Ha! 

La F. My courtesy is veiled by indignation, and I think only of 
your treachery to me. 

Vis. To you ! what does this mean 1 

La F. Simply that I had a prior right to her affection, if not to her 
constancy, for though the church's ceremonies were by chance 



TnK PAUK HO0K BRFOflE DAWN. 23 

oiiiiltetl, lier ladyship did me tho honor to share my name before she 
dreamt of wearing yours. 

Tableau of astonishment. — Cecii-e screams and falls into La Louk's 
arms, who has 2yitsh€d La Forge aside. — Bakon de Tkop looks for 
his spectacles. 

END OF ACT SECOND. 



ACT III. 

SCENE L — A small, pocrly furnished apartment. — Cecile discovered. 

Cec. [ Weeping.'] And so ends my day-dream of happiness — in mis- 
ery, huniiiiation and despair ! Ah ! what heedless fault have I com- 
mitted, that the chastisement should be so terrible? Whose path 
have I crossed, that he should seek a revenge so cruel 1 Born among 
(he woods, my humble birth could have disturbed no ambition, de- 
ranged no calculation ; too weak to fear a rival, too simple to de- 
serve an enemy. Infancy, childhood, and youth passed in peaceful 
quiet. At last came womanhood — then love — then wedlock — a brief 
joy, thus quenched in sudden darkness! Denounced by one whose 
face I have never seen — spurned l)y my husband — and, I fear, aban- 
doned by my brother! Looked upon as au outcast by the uncharit- 
able world, which ever takes for granted that which cannot be dis- 
proved, however infamously false — and yet unable to denounce the 
lying tongues and coward hearts that worked this cruel wrong! 
Joseph, my brother! do not thou forsake me, in my soul agony ! He 
promised to come to-day — will he keep his word? Oh, yes, I am 
pure he will! Hark! I hear a footstep — 'tis he. [^4 knock at door. 
Come in! 

Emter Baron De Trop. 

Bar. I wonder wncther this is the place 1 i've left my spectacles 
at home, so I should'nt know her from the princess royal. How d'ye 
do ? Can't see you — I suppose it's you — how are ye? 

Cec. The Baron ! Oh, innocence, where is thy safeguard. Since 
the blush of shame burns iu my cheek as fiercely as though it was 
deserved. 

Bar. They said the sixth story, this may be the seventh. I never 
can keep the run after the third — it's very awkward, I'm sure. 

Cec. What may be your business with me, sir 1 

Bar. I don't think it's she — the one I want has a more oleaginous 
brogue, a rich Strasburgian mellowness of language. I wish I knew. 
There is a way of finding out whether a person is the one you want, I 



24 THE DAP.K HOUr. CF.KORK DvWX. 

wish I could remember — it can't bo measuring ]m.t linigJit — oh! I 
know, I'll ask her name. That's it, I am sure (liaL'.s it. {.Uotid] You'll 
excuse me, I know, ma'am — but would you be good enough tc tell me 
if your name is — ^bkss me ! I've forgotten it — oh ! I recollect — if your 
uame is Savonnette 1 

Cec. It. is not, sir. 

Bar. I /mew that was the way of finding out. Then you aie not my 
washerwoman? Good gracious! I'm quite shocked — I'm sure. 

Ccc. There is a person of that name up stairs, I believe. 

Bar. [Horror-struck.] Upstairs! Eight stories! Why, she must 
live on the roof ! You see, ma'am, I don't mind telling you — you 
live so near her — the last batch of — what .shall I call it — I don't like 
to say clean clothes— regenerated haberdashery we' 11 call it — was not 
altogether complete. Mrs. Savonette's dozen's are quite apt to con- 
sist of eleven pieces. In short — there was an article of — drapery 
missing. I tell you these little details, for I knew you'd be interes- 
ted. Up stairs, you say? Bye, bye — I'll let you know if I 
find it. 

Going. — Meets La Touk, who enters. 

How d'ye do ? — Can't see you — suppose I know you — no matter 
whether I do or not — good bye ! [Exit. 

Cec. Oh, brother, how glad I am to see you ! 

[La Tour repels her. 

Bar. [LooJcincf in.] Is this ladder the stairs'? 

La T. Get out, sir! [Bauon shuts door hastily. 

Cec. Oh! Joseph! Speak to me— speak to your wretched sister! 
[A noise heard unlhout as of some one falling down a ladder.] The poor 
man must have hurt himself. 

La T. He may break his neck if be likes. Do not touch me 
Cecile ! 

Cec. Y^ou do not — you cannot believe me guilty ? 

La T. 1 have not come here to listen to your denials, or to be 
moved by your tears. I have come to make arrangements for your 
future life. I go back to the country to-morrow. 

Cec. [Tremhlingly.] Alone? 

La T. Alone. 

Cec. And you leave me here by myself? Will you not take me 
home 1 

La T. Henceforth you have no home. 

Cec. Then you do believe me guilty ! The thought is unworthy of 
you, Joseph. 

La T. Such observation was to be expected, madam. With a tar- 
nished soul, you possess a ribald tongue. 

Ci'c. Oh. forgive me, Joseph — I know not what I say. My heart is 
wrung with anguish — no wonder that my lips speak bitterly. 

La T. Enough of this. Listen— your husband, as you are aware, 
has made no provision for your support. I respect and esteem him 
for it — it proves his nice and delicate sense of honor. [A knock at 
door.] If that is the Baron again, I'll hurl him down stairs. 

[Goes to door. 



THE DARK HO0R BEFORE DATTN. 25 

Enter Papillon. 

Cec. Edward's servant? what can ho wish with me? 

Pap. My master sent rae wiHi this letter to you, madarae, and bade 
me wait for an answer. [Aside.] Poor lady ! 

La T. Read it, madamo. 

Cec. I cannot ; my tears blind me ! [Wcps. 

La T. My eyes are free from the result of penitence or shaim'. 
\Rcads Idler.'] " Madame, I appreciate the motive which has led you 
to withdraw from beneath my roof, but it is not my intention to per- 
mit you to depend upon the sympathy of strangers, or upon the 
})()unty of your brother. I cannot allow one who has borne my name, 
even though she has dragged it in the mire, either to suffer for the 
necessaries of life, or to be compelled to descend to labor to obtain 
them. Inclosed is a sum of money, which will be renewed at proper 
intervals. In whatever scenes you may pass your future years, I 
trust you will school yourself to forget the hour in which you cro.s«i'd 
my threshold. Happy would it l>e lor me could I look forward to the 
same sweet oblivion. Edward, Viscomte de Rosiere." 

Vec. And he believes it! — lie never loved me! [Weeps. 

Lt T. [Folds Ictier.] Return this to your master, and say it is all the 
answer it deserves. 

Pap. [Emhurrassed] Madame, Muscadine gave me a message to 
give to you. If you would condescend to care what a chambermaid 
feels, or says — 

Cec. Tell rae, good Papillon j what message could Muscadine send 
to one so lost as 1 ? 

Pap. Muscadine says that she and rae — were going to be married 
next week — but now, after what has happened, she's going to put it 
off a year. 

Cec. Kind Muscadine ! But tell her not to make herself and you 
unhappy, because I am so. One in a household is enough. 

Pop. Oil ! Muscadine doesn't believe a word of it, ma'am. [Going, 
ichiiiipcring.] / dou't believe a word of it! [At door, blubbering out- 
rigid.] We don't any of us Vjelieve it in the kitchen ! [Exit. 

L'l T. And now, madarae, listen to my determination. 

Cec. Oh ! do not act rashly, Joseph, my brother, my last and only 
friend on earth. I shall endeavor to speak with cahnenss, even 
amidst my sorrow and indignation. Reason may serve me when af- 
fection has failed. This man, this vile accuser — did you ever see 
him before"? 

La T. Men of his stamp are fertile in disguises. He may have 
worn a mask then, or he wears one now. 

Cec. Was I ever absent from your home 1 

La T. I know not Tiie nights are sometimes long, and those who 
toil in the fields by day are apt to sleep soundly then, I labored 
hard and re-!ted well — I know not. 

Cec. Did you ever detect the blush of guilt upon my cheek? 

La T. The guilty never blush. An end to this. Your perfidy waa 
but too well established. I am resolved. 



26 THE DARK HOUTR BEFORE DAWS. 

Gee. One moment, Joseph. For ten years, this liltlc cross — my mo- 
ther's dying g-ft — has never left my neclv. Upon t!iat cross, I swear — 

La T. Degraded woman ! would you profane that holy relic with 
a false oath ? 

Cec. \^Breaking from 7im.] Oh, believe my words, or I shall go mad ! 
I am innocent! — your sister swears it, Joseph, on our mother's cro?s! 

La T. [Snatching the cross.] Sister no longer — wretched woman, 
Btubborn of heart a:? you are false and worthless, from this time for- 
ward I never see you more ! 

[CECijji: faUs xipon her knees — La Todr staggers towards door. Closed in. 

SCENE 11.— Interior. 
Enter Papillon and Mcscadine, meeting. 

Pap. "Well, Muscadine, I've seen her. 

Mus. Did you give her my message ? 

Pap. Yes, and she said you were a kind, good girl, and that I was 
a beautiful and estimable young man, and that we mustn't wait to get 
married. 

Mus. Oh ! she said that, did she ? 

Paji. Yes, she said there was no reason why you should be wretched 
because she is. 

3Ius. Well, I declare ! Do you suppose it would make me wretched 
not to marry you 1 

Pap. Why not ? — it makes me wretched not to marry you. Rosebud. 
Oh, what a life I lead ! I sleep like a log all night, and I don't do 
any work in the day. My appetite i« quite unnatural ; the cook 
says I eat like an earthquake, and the butler complains that I drink 
like a whirlpool. I counted my pulse yeslerday — how much do you 
think 1 163 in the shade! I'm almost sure I shall die young, or, if 
1 don't, that something frightful will happen to my mind. 

Mus. Oh ! I don't want to marry a man that's got anything the 
matter with his mind. 

Pap. Oh, there hasn't anything happened to it, yet — it's bubbling 
with intelligence at present, and to test it, last night, I wrote a son- 
net to your cruelty. 

Mus. A what 1 

Pap. A sonnet — so called by us poets, because it only has seven 
lines. Some people like fourteen, but servants, with a proper sense 
of their position, never puts but seven. 

Mus. Well, what do you do when you can't finish in seven lines? 

Pap. Then we break off where we are, and leave the rest to luck. 
I'll read you what I wrote. [Opens a paper and reads. 

Oh, Muscadine— Oh, Muscadine, 
Why are you so obs/mate ? 

Mus. Obstinate? 

Pap. Yes, this sonnet being in long metre, you have to say 
obs^mate, or else it won't rhyme. Us poets call that sort of thing a 
poetical licentiousness. 

AIus. Yes, poets always are licentious, they say. Go on. 



THE DARK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. 27 

Pap. Ob. MuPCtidine — Oh, Ainscadine, 

Why an; yon .«o obs^//Mvte, 
I do so wi.-^h you'd many me, 
Thai I can't wait a minnit. 
Mus. You'll have to wait a good many minutes tho'. I'm thinking. 
Fap. Good gracious, Musk, can a poet be liceutious or not ? Don't 
interrupt. {Reads Id verse. 

Oh. Muscadine — Ob Muscadine. 

You really hadn't orter. 
For if you would but marry me — \_Folds up paper. 
That's all. I think (here's mind there. 
Mils. Rut there's no end to it. 

Pup. I can't help that — T can't ofFcnd the rules of poesy, can 11 
One line more, and it wouldn't have been a sonnet. 
Mus. What would it have been 1 

Pap. Well, it would have been a roundelay, or a doggerel as the 
case might be. 

3Ius. A dog-gerel ? 
Pap. Some poets fay ca/terel. 
Mus. Let me see if 1 can't make a doggerel of it. 
Oh. Muscadine, Oh, Muscadine, 

You really hadn't orter, 
For if you would but marry me — 
I'd keep you in hot water! 
There's a poetical finish for you, that has the peculiar advantacre of 
being perfectly true. [Exit. 

Pap. Well, the hottest water will cool in time, and when we're mar- 
ried I'll take pretty good care that she doesn't boil over, very often! 
at all events I'll set my sonnet to music. How I should like to hear 
old Capuchin, the priest, say, one of these days — ' the choir will 
sing two verses of Mr. Papillon's doggerel, omitting the last line." 
Decidedly. I think my chances are looking up, [feeling his tvriH.] — and 
my pulse is coming down. [Exit. 

SCENE lU—The CnbarcC—[As before.]— Fxrx Ciiauvk Souris, Trb- 
BCCUET, &c., discovered. La Tour at table, alone. 

Papa. [To Trkbouchet, u-ho is about to drink.] — Slop! put that 
down I 

Tre. Well ! I was going to put it down 1 

Papa. No drinking 'till the hero comes, then we'll drain a glorious 
bumper together ! there'll be nothing to pay for any of you to-night. 

La T. [Aside ] — In this low den, the most obscure that I could find, 
let m(! in drink forget myself and my disgrace, at least for a time. 

Pupa. He's coming in his new magnificent wardrobe, to do honor to 
the occasion ! oh, he isn't proud, don't be afraid, he's one of us yet ! 
here'^ to him. [About to drink. 

Tre. Here ! stop — now tjou put that down ! 

Papa. It's the force of habit — I swear I forgot. 

La T. Will, as. I came to drink, I think I may as well be served, 
[Rapping upon table.] — Here! host 



28 THE DARK HOnR BEFORE DAWy. 

Papa. Sir ! hallo ! a stranger ] 

La 2. Have no fears of me, my friend ! however desperate may be 
the fortunes of ray aissociates, tliey may well be envied when com- 
pared with mine ! go let me have a bottle of your strongest and 
best. [A gued gets under his own table, and unpcrceived indulges in pri- 
vate libations.] 

Papa. With alacrity sir ! outside of law or in, you may drink in 
salety here, only I must beg you, out of deference to the object, in 
which this little family party is assembled, to abstain from imbibition 
till the guest of the evening is among us. A kindred spirit, sir, a 
congenial soul ; in short, in the language of the sages, he's " the 
Ulysses of roguery, and the Ajax of law despisers." [Goes for ivine. 

La T. Who may this classic scapegrace be ? he must come soon, at 
any rate, or I shall begin the revel alone. The thought will some- 
times haunt me that I have treated poor Cecile too harshly! pshaw ! 
this lethean draught will drown conscience as well as memory. 

Pap. [Wilhicine] Here it is, sir! but be good enough to bear in 
mind the little recommendation I just gave you. I place this goblet 
and this tankard under the guardianship of your sacred honor. 

La T. {Aside.] This is ^ droll world ! shame in the cottage and 
honor in tne stews. 

Tre. \At door.] He's coming ! he's here ! gentlemen, His Majesty, 
the King of the Galleys, otherwise known as His Grace, the Marquis 
dc Mousseron. 

Enter La Force. 

La T. Ha I what's that 1 — he here, in this den of thieves. [.dsicZe. 

La F. Gentlemen, I see by your arid lips and parched expressions, 
that you have not wet your fiery throats ; as you are not, as a class, 
used to self-restraint of any kind, I deeply appreciate the compli- 
ment. But I will not keep you waiting. \Ve will open the ceremo- 
nies with a toast! let us drink to the health of — [laughing] — Her 
Gr;ice — {exploding] — the Marquise de Mousseron. [2'liey drink. 

La T. {A&idc] The scoundrel ! 

La F. Another to the phoenix of idiots, the Vicomte de Rosiere ! 
another to the prince of paymaster's, Alfred de Senneville. 

La T. {Aside.l What's this 1 what's this ? down, throbbing heart. 

La F. Ah ! gentlemen, what a night it was ! how I regret that your 
social position forbids your mingling in such festive scenes. My 
thoughts were upon ye, comrades, throughout that eventful evening, 
and 1 said to myself, " if I had but half-a-dozen of 'em with me, 
what a liusrering we'd have among the spoons !" oh ! the agony it was 
to Ijthold the silver, and the gold, and the precious stones, the dia- 
monds pt udant from delicate ears, tnat, with a snatch I could have 
torn hum the yielding flesh : the rubies encircling slender wrists, — 
rubies glowing and palpitating as with hot, living blood ; emeralds 
and topazes sparkling upon patrician fingers, that other fingers, these 
for instance, might have loosened with a touch ; to behold all tJiis, 
and be obliged to restrain myself. What agony to feel all the greed 
of the thief and be forced to wear the nonchalance of the peer ; to 
muffle the iron hand within the velvet glove. I hope you may never 
be placed under such a trial, you couldn't stand it. 



■ THE DARK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. 29 

Tre. Of course we conld'nt ! I coxiUln't for one. 

La T. The galleys for life, if you were cauKlit. There was one 
moment when I thought /couldn't stand it When he presented me 
to a grand lady under circumstances which rendered it proper that I 
should kiss her hand. I bent over her jeweled wrist ! A string of 
milk-white pearls ran round and round, in accumulating strands, her 
lovely arm. My lips touched them — my breath clouded them — I 
could have plunged my fangs into the priceless mass, torn asunder 
the delicate thread which bound them, and swallowed a hundred of 
them raw ! Do you think I did it? No ; though my heart thumped, 
and my eyes glistened ! I raised my head — drew out my handker- 
chief — so — and spoke in the following style : [Imitating manner of 
an exquisite.] A charming evening. Duchess, though it looks consura- 
edly like rain. 

La T. [Aside bitterhj.] And this despicable wretch is my sister's— 
Oh, Cecile ! 

La F. But the evening was not altogether lost, after all. I had 
my eyes about me. I peered into store-rooms, cupboards, pantries. 
1 know where to lay my hand on the soup-ladle in the dark — solid 
silver and two feet long. I saw the golden tea-service, gleaming in 
its rosewood prison. I know where to plant the ladder, and wher3 to 
ply the wire. I'll bring back twenty brimming bags of plunder! 

Om««. Bravo! Bravo! [All drink. 

La. T. [Aside:\ The blessed chance be thanked that led me here I 
[Pretends to drink, but throtos toine away <tnd listens earnestly. 

La. F. There's only one thing that I regret ! Oh, I know I'm a fool 
and a baby — none of you would have had such scruples — but when it 
came to the business of the evening, that for which I was paid — well 
it went against the grain — although I deemed myself all-conscience 
proof — and I felt a coward and a knave, as I stood up before the 
assembled guests, and with craven heart and lying lips, traduced a 
virtuous and unoffending woman ! 

La T. [Starting up.] Great heavens ! [Restraining himself.] No, no ! 
let me listen — let me listen. 

La F. I had never seen her since the hour I was born. 

La T. [ wall cross.] Oh, Cecile ! my poor sister I pardon— forgive 
nie. [Kisses cross. 

La F. Would any of you have done if? 

Treb. No, we ain't none of us such a coward. 

La F. Ha! who said coward 1 

Treb. I said we were all too great cowards. 

La F. Ob ! but enough of this. I shall have forgotten it in a week. 
Now, who goes with me to Rosiere's to-morrow night 1 I want a bold 
heart and a cool head. Who volunteers? 

La T. /do! [Advances. 

LaF.Iley'. Who's this 1 [Getieral surprise. 

La T. An apprentice in your noble art, great king of the galleys! 
I'll be your companion in this enterprise. You've been indiscreet, 
your majesty, and have no alternative — you must confide in me ! I'll 
prove it in an instant — look in my face — do you not recognize me 7 

La F. Ilold '. now that I think— yes— the Viscomte's Steward— De 



30 THE DARK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. 

Rosiere's confidential agent ! Friends! — Treachery! — a spy in the 
camp ! \ General movement. 

La T. Sfay, stay ! I haven't come here, one against a dozen, to 
show light. I'm not an ass, though I am a Steward ! There, thiTe, 
put your stiletto's back, my boys — put 'em back. So, ah ! now your 
majesty, a word in your car. 

La F. Well sir. explain, if you can. 

La T. [His assumed manner indicating avarice and villainy.'] How 
singular it is, that I should have sought this place for the very pur- 
pose you have broached 'i You know where to lay your hand upon 
the soup ladle, two feet long — /know where to lay mine upon Ibe 
soup tureen, two feet deep ! 

La. F. [Su.ipicininsli/.] Ah ! 

La T. You know where to plant the ladder, and ply the wire. What's 
the use of ladder or wire — if you know the pass to the wicket, and 
have ffot the key of the safe ? 

La F. Well, what's all this to me ? 

La T. Well, it's this to you : I'm tired of petty larceny and fa.se 
entries in my books — I don't make enough to pay for red ink. In 
short. Td as soon steal on a grand scale, as peculate on a small one. 
Tliiit'.s why I came here to-night. We'll share the danger and go 
halve* in the jilunder. Is it agreed 1 

La F. Hum ! — 1 don't know. What security can you give ? 

La T. This. [Gives a key.] The way iuto the strong lio.x ! /keep the 
key to the postern. Then neither can do anything without the other. 
Is it a bargaiii 1 

La F. [Gazing at key ] This is the key of the strong box? My lips 
water ! How nnich is there in it ? 

La T. A quarter of a million at least. 

La F. Stop, you d:izzle me ! A quarter of a million ! Trebuchet ! 
Bring the i-kull and the glas<! 

Papa. Hist! The patrol is in the street! Keep close! Keep 

close! 

Treb. Here's the skull —swear and be quick ! 

La F. You have entered th.s place of your own acrord, and must 
be bound, body and soul, to our fraternity. This boney gol)let once 
held the brains of a traitor, who perished in his treachery. You must 
swear ! [^Gives skull to La Tolk. 

Papa They arc coming this way ! They have entered the yard ! 
Every one for himself I 

'^General confusion. — The Guard enter. — A fight heliveen Gu^rd and the 
Tmikvks — La Fouck and La Touk. the latter carrying the skull, escape 
by tra/i-door. — The TiiiicvKS are ovirpowsred. — Picture. 



KXD OF act in. 



THE DARK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. 81 



ACT IV. 



SCENE I. — Cecile's Apartment, as before. A couch — a pan of char- 
coal burning on one side of stage. Music. 

Cecile discovered on couch — she rises- 

Ccc Will oblivion never come, or have I left some crevice that y.>i 
may adniil, Uie life-sustaining air ■? No, all is close ; and slill ihe lo.ii; 
sleep I yearn for will not shroud me in forgetfulness. Oh, hu.-batnl I 
brother ! — both so dearly loved, and both so cruel and unjust — may 
lieaven keep ever from your knowledge the great wrong that you 
liave done, for I forgive you from my soul! You were deceived by 
that most wicked lie^ and with my last breath of life will I pray that 
you may never feel such remorse as would await the truth's discovery ! 
The air is laden with the stiflins vapor ; it circles cloud-like through 
the place ; a strong, pungent odor fills my sense with every inspira- 
tion, and yet the stubborn flame within will not be quenched ! Why 
is It so hard to die 1 Oh, for some quicker means ! To live with the 
dead fellowship of a corrupted name — no, no! Come, merciful 
darkness — come ! Ha ! there's a gasp — a blinding flash across my 
eyes, that now dilate with pain! It has arrived — the wished-for 
moment ! Yes. my brain reels, and now the clouds are heavenly 
bvight! — and see ! it is, it is my mother! She smiles upon me, for 
she knows my truth and innocence! I come, mother ! I come ! 

[Sinks on conch. 

La Topr knocks voilently at door, which is barred across, calling, 
" Cecile ! sister! it is I V— finally, the door is burst open, and La 
Tour rushes in. 

La T. What mean these suffocating fumes ? Cecile, my sister ! 
Pah ! I shall stifle here ! \Sees pan of charcoal.] Powers of mercy ! 
what do I behold 7 I have murdered her — her pure and sensitive 
heart was broken by my brutal words ! [Dashes open the window 
and throws out ihe pan of charcoal, then bears Cecile to open win- 
dow J My sister! my innocent, true, noble girl ! Oh, heaven ! let not 
my siiul be cursed e;ernally by this fearful crime ! Ha ! she revives ! 
Yes, God be thanked I the life-blood rises to her pale cheek. Dont 
tremble, my poor, wounded dove; a brother's arms are clasped 
around thee ! 

Cec. [Reviving, looks at La Tour, slowly recognizing him, then 
breaks away, hiding her face in her hands-] Come not near me ! 
Oh ! vvliy ilid you recall me to the hated world again] 

La T. To bill thee live for honor, Cecile ! To bring thee back the 
symbol of your purity and truth, our mother's dying gift ! [Puts cross 
on her neck.] My sister ! 

Cec. It is ! and now the sudden life leaps to my heart ! Oh, bro- 
ther ! let me weep I These are the first tears that I have shed. They 



32 THE DARK HOUR BEFOKH DAWN. 

do not flow from sliame, mj' bvother, for I am iniiocf-nt — indeed [ am 
innocent ! 

La T. I know it, darliiii; — I know it! Calm thyself. It was a 
foul plot ; a base, maliiinaiil slander. Bnt I liave di.scovei'ed, and in 
time shall e.xpose the villain.^ who concocted it. Nay, it is I wlio 
should di'op tears of anouish for liavins doubted for an instant 30ur 
true heart. Take courage, dearest, and pi'epare thyself, for he is 
comiiiir, repentant as myself, to retake thee to his home and love. I 
hurried on before — forever blessed be tlie impulse that ursed me here ! 
I shudder now to tiiink of the dark I'ate that hung on those few mo- 
ments ! 

Cec. [Hurriedly.] Hark I. 'tis his footstep, brother. Will lie restore 
co mo liis love and confidence 1 Deceive me not, f^ir if the slightest 
shadow of suspicion yet remain, 'twould haunt me like an ever-present 
fear. 

La T. There's not a trace, a particle ; your purity and truth estab- 
lislied clear as the summer sky. Be all thyself — he's here. 

Enter Viscomte de Rosieke — he rushes to Cecile. 

Vis. My love, my angel wife — forgive ! 
Cec. [Falling into his arms.] My husband ! 

Tableau. 



SCENE II. — Apartment at De Rosiere's. 

Enter Baron de Tkop, spectacles on his forehead. 

Bar. I must have left them here. They're not at home, and I'm 
sure I liaii ihem when that scene took place. I'll buy a dozen pair, 
and hni.rr iheni around my neck. [Goes through door. 

Enter Papillon and Muscadine. 

Pap. Well, Rosebuil, thanks to tlie varieirated composition of thy 
immaculate sex, we're bachelors rigain. Another levolution ! The 
imperial ru'e is at an end, and we return to our republic. Know'st 
tlioii what a re])ublic is. Mignonette 1 

Mus. No; do 2/oi/, ButierOy 1 

P(ip Wi'll, yi's ; as much as any true Frenchman does, I believe. 

Mns. What is it 1 Is it go'.>d for us 1 — if not, I don't care anything 
.iji'iur it.. 

Pap Well ieasoned, Mariiiold ; that's good world-argument. You 
won't lack compnnions in that school of philosophy. But to speak 
sa.:i'!y, your leimlilic is a plain thing of many musters and few ser- 
v:iiits. wlii'e yo\n' jmre monarchy is a glittering thing of many ser- 
vanis and ('ne ni:i.sier. 

M<is Wi'li, iiW'- UK' the one muster, say I. 

I^iip Bei.ia :; seivnnt, yes, \\\y ciiniiflower, but if thou could'st be 
mistress, what then \ 

Mas. Woulda't I let them know who they had to deal with. 



TnF, DARK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. 33 

Pap. Human nature, my Geranium ; by the feet of Hercules, you 
speak like an oracle. 

3Ihs. Do I ^ well, I difln't know it. 

Pap. So much the better. Those seldom do, whose words are 
worth remembering. 

Mus. But tell nie, butterfly, is there any difference between that : 
what is it — republic, you tpeak of, and our o-wn, thingamy, you 
know 1 

Pap. Not much, a sort of backward reading of the sentence that's 
all. In one there is a king of a nation, in the other a nation of kings. 

3Ius. "^Vhat ! are all the men kings 1 

Pap. Absolute sovereigns. 

Mus. And what are the women in this blessed state of affairs 1 

I'ap. The women ! Snowdrop 1 oh, they are — 

Mas. Queens, of course! 

Pap. Well — not exactly ! they are, as they always were, and 
always will be, secret agents, advisers and instigators, darling creatures 
and affectionate institutions generally, but in and through all, the 
absolute and irresistible movers of circumstance, the unseen influen- 
ces that work the world's machinery, while the befooled, self-satisfied 
lesser half, flatters himself that it's all his doing ! 
• Mus. Oh, butterfly ! in the name of our weak species, let me 
make you my best curtsey. 

Pap. Stop ! be quite sure that it is a compliment before you agi- 
tate yourself. 

Mus. To tell you the truth, I don't quite know whether it is or not, 
but this I do know, I'm very glad we've got the house to ourselves 
once more. 

Pap. Yes, and I'm very glad the moth of an intendant you so be- 
wilder with your flaming eyes, to the great discomfort of your insect's 
internal auatomy, has fluttered himself off. 

Enter La Touk. 

Rather mysterious that he should vanish at the same time as her 
ladyship ! 

La T. Silence, fool ! — bridle your tongue, my friend, or else your 
bones will answer for it ! 

Pap. Upon the honor of a gentleman's gentleman, we meant noth- 
ing, did we, primrose ? 

Mus. [Crossing.] Nothing but the fear that we had lost your amia- 
ble society. Monsieur. 

Pap. [Turning her round."] There that will do; those perfidious 
eyes are at work again ! Monsieur, we take our leave, delighted to 
welcome you back ! — [.4s they retreat ceremoniously, they come 
suddenly against De Trop, loho enters] — 

Bar. Thank you ; don't mention it — I beg your pardon! who the 
deuce isitl [to La Tour.] Ah! how do you do — you are looking 
better than ever ! — eh I no, why bless my soul, master Joseph, is it 
you — I could never have sujiposed, reall}', after what I saw, lucky 
follow, I mean wicke I rascal — don't be alarmed, I haven't said a word 



84 THE DARK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. 

— won't say a word — no affair of mine, you know, eh, Joseph 1 I 
wish I liad mj' spectacles: I'd like to see the scoundrel's face! do 
you know what's become of 'um, ehl 

La T. Bar«;i, can you take a hint 1 

Bar. Well, if I cai see it at all, plainlj- — yes ! 

La T. I don't think you can misunderstand mine. Baron, j'ou are 
a foolish, prying mischevious old male gossip, with just brains enough 
to pick out and remember the scandalous i>arts of the current con- 
versation, invention enough to heighten their worst features, and in- 
dustry eiiough to circulate them through the community of merci- 
less tale-bearers and tattlers of ivhich you are a shining example ; 
now listen to me. Baron ! if I ever hear that you have dared to utter 
a syllable against the wife of the Viscomte de Rosiere, I'll take the 
liberty of making your eais as dull as your eyes, and deprive your 
slanderous tongue of both it's accom])lices, by slicing them off 1 
have I made myself perfectly intelligible 1 

Bar. Perfectly, I must confess. 

La T. Then, Baron, I have the honor to wish you a good daj'. 

Bar. Sir, I'm your most humble servant. — [£'xii La Tour.] I be- 
lieve I'm awake — but upon my life I hardly know ; was there ever 
such a dangerous ruffian ; out my ears off — and for what — for speak- 
ing against her; how can I speak for her after what 1 saw? faith, I 
won't hold my tongue, and why should 11 I won't be intinydated by 
this impudent varlet ; didn't I see enough to convince me of her infi- 
delity. — Oh Lord! I thought I heard him coming back! — [Claps 
hands on his ears.] Good gracious; that's strange ! why, here are 
my spectacles, I declare, after all ; who could have possibly put them 
there, for I'll take my oath I didn't; I'll keep an eye on this fellow, 
the Viscomte must know what a model Intendant he's blessed with. 

[Fxit c. door. 

SCENE III. — Reception Room, as before — Night. Partially lighted. 
Window, practicable, at back. 

La Tour and Viscomte discovered. 

La T. It will soon be time for me to expect my rascally accom- 
plice. Have you removed the most valuable of your things ? 

Vis. Yes, there is nothing left of consequence. 

La T. I have prepared a fine trap for his rogueship. Here is a 
brave package of worthless money, a dazzling quantity of copper 
roulous, and a brilliant display of invaluable jewelry, that will make 
his eyes dance. 

Vis, But how do you wish us to proceed 1 Shall we secure him in 
the act of robbery 1 

La T. By no means. We must both escap2. I mean to disgrace 
and discomfit the whole villainous batch together. I have it all 
planned. Hark! a stealthy footstep. [Goes to keyhole.] Confusion! 
it's that malapro[)os Baron. He's watching me. Never mind, let him 
como; we may need a witness. Away, and leave him to me ! 

[Exit Viscomte. 



THE DARK U->VR BUFOHE DAW.S. 35 

Bakon de Trop enters cautiously, sees La Tour just opening escri- 
toire and looking round as if fearful of being seen. 

Bar. As I'm ca live Baron, the rascal is robbing bis master. 

[Hides behind screen. 

La T. Pshaw! there's nothing here, after all. It's well that owl 
of a Baron didn't suspect me, or I would have silenced him pretty 
quickly. \_Drawing knife. Barox grimaces.] Hold ! how do I know 
there is not somebody concealed in the room at this moment "? If so, 
lie had belter go to his prayers. 

[Looks under table. As he crosses, Baron gets under the same. 

Bar. Good heavens ! I'm goose-flesh all over. 

La T. [Aside.] I think I shall cure you, ray friend, of prying — ha! 
ha I All right ; there's no one. Now for our job. [Goes to window.] 
Hist ! are von there "* 

La F. ['without.] All right. 

Bar. Gracious me ! there's another. I wish I were in the bottom 
of a well ! An icy stream is running down my back-bone ! 

Enter La Force, through window. Baron sees him. 
Jiang me if it isn't the Marquis ! Here's atrocious villainy ! What 
shall I do"? Cry out and have an indigestible supper of cold steel 1 
Mo, I'll watch the scoundrels closely. 

La F. Is all safe 1 

La T. Safe as the Bastile. 

La F. Phew ! don't mention that establishment. Then let us be 
quick about the business. 

La T. The deuce take the luck ! I'm afraid we shall get but little 
for our pains. I can see no trace of money. 

La F. Malediction I you don't say so ! Ha ! here it is, [aside, 
while La Tour's back is towards him] in heaps — prodigious heaps I 
[Alovd] No money — that's too bad ; but let us take what we can 
find, at all events. [Stuffs the money, ^'c, into his pocket, slyly. 

La T. [Aside.] Honor among thieves is a doubtful axiom. The 
vagabond is robbing his associate. 

La F. [Stumbling upon Baron's feet, who utters an exclamation of 
pain.] Ha! a spy! Who is if? [X'^'^^'s owi De Trop.J I'll make 
short work with you, my intrusive friend ! [Draws knife. 

Bar. [On his knees.] Mercy, good Marquis ! mercy ! 

La F. What, that you may use your tonge against us ? No, your 
hour has come. 

La T. Hold! we'll have no bloodshed. The Baron is discreet; he 
loves his ears too well to put them in jeopardy. 

Bar. I'll make a vow of perpetual silence ; only spare my life ! 

La F. Remain where you are then ; if you move a step, or utter a 
sound, your doom is sealed ; but first we'll trouble you for whatever 
loose valuables you have about you ! a purse, not over-full, and a pair 
of gold spectacles. ■ 

Bar. Don't deprive me of those ! ah ! there they go again ; gra- 
cious me ; here's a situation for a nobleman. [La Force ihreatent.'\ 
There ! I've done. 



86 TIIK DARK HOUR BEFOnE DAWN. 

La F. Now, by your leave, we must make sure of your silence. — 
[Takes cloth from table and binds it round De Trop's head] Remem- 
ber, the knife is at your liuoat if you stir. [Tolih. Tour.] U's useless 
to continue our scarcl), let us be off with what we have secured. 

La T. Agreed! though it's cursed haid fortune not to have found 
the money. \_Tliey exit through window. 

Bar. For Heaven's sake, take off this bandase ; phew — I'm smo- 
therina ! I believe the villains have gone; help — murder — robbery; 
hollo-there : l"m dying, stifling ; murder ! 

Enter Yiscomte, Papillon, Muscadine and Servants. — They re- 
move cloth from De Tkop's head. 

Vis. What's the matter, Baron 1 
Bar. The matter! — oh, it's frightful ; only think. 
La T. [At door.] Beware! 

Bar. Gcod Lord ! [Drops on his knees.] — My ears ; that scound- 
rel's impudence is majestic ! 

La Tour a)id Viscomte exchange glances. — Tableau. 

END OF ACT IV. 



ACT V. 

SCENE I. — Drawing room at the VrscoMTEs. — Elegantly furnished. — 
Morning. 

Enter Papillon /rom side door, L. H. 

Pap. By the manes of Proteus, but this is a most mutable house- 
hold ! We have had another revolution already — such a thing waa 
never known before. The Empire is re-established firmer than 
ever, to judge by the affectionate attitude of the high contracting 
parties. 

Enter Muscadine, b. h., with a salver of chocolate. 

Pap. Well, my female minister of the interior! 1 see you have 
given in your adhesion to the new order of things ! 

Mus. Yes, I thought I'd follow the example of my betters, and keep 
my place through all changes. 

Pap. You improve. Primrose ! Imbued by our reflected light, you 
grow profoundly political — and have touched the very heart of state- 
craft! Administrations are variable — but salaries fixed, and it's only 
your rusty weathervane that won't turn whatever way the wind may 
blow ! 

Mus, But is it true, butterfly, that the house was robbed last night 1 

Pop. Yes, I believe our treasury was slightly dipped into, and by 



THE DAUK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. 37 

non-ofScial fingers, too, A sliamefiil departure from established usage, 
sliould it so turn out. liut I'm inclined to tliink your Monsieur Motb 
knows something of the matter, tuid has but duly exercist-d the privi- 
lege of placo. [A hell heard. 

Miis. G.<od gracious! that's my lady's bell, and you liave kept me 
here lalk.ng nonsense until I do believe her chocolate is cold. I never 
saw such a torment as you are. [^Exit l. door. 

Pap. liravo. Mignonette ! Faith, your sex is famous for shifting 
the responsibility. I don't believe one of yon ever niadea mistake in 
your lives that everybody wasn't to blame but yourselves. And yet, 
I don't know that it's your fault, either. We all know that fire will 
burn, still, while the world holds human people men will be found 
ijcorchiug their fingers by playing with the flame! 

Enter Viscomfte. — He sits. 

Vis. Papillon ! 

Pap. Mouseigneur! 

Vis. I expect the Count de Senneville and some of his friends to 
call this morning. If they should question you about my affairs, be- 
fore 1 see them, you will oblige me much by being ignorant of every- 
thing that has recently transpired. 

Pap. I trust, Monseignenr, I know my duty too well not to have 
do:ie so, untold. 

Vis. I believe I can rely upon your discretion. You are an impu- 
dent puppy — but a fathful one, I believe. 

Pap. Uh, Mouseigneur ! [Bows.] I don't know which is the great- 
est compliment of the two. 

Vis. Enough ! Remember my desire. 

Pup. Implicitly, Mouseigneur ! [Aside.] The calm before a domes- 
tic tornado, or I know nothing of this human barometer. 

[Pointing to his oivn face. Exit, C. door. 

Enter Cecile, l. h. door. — Viscompte rises to receive her. 

Vis. Ah, dear Cecile ! My heart is still laden with remorseful shame 
for the unmerited and cruel past. 

Cec. My husband, think no more of that! The present joy now 
fills me with such abundant happiness, I almost bless the vanished 
cloud, whose blackness makes more beautiful the sunlight of to-day ! 
I have but one apprehension — an undefined, but conscious dread of 
ill to you. I know your sense of honor, and the strong impulse of 
your love will urge you to avenge the injury done to both through 
me ; but I implore you, let it not be with danger to yourself. 

Vis. Fear not, Cecile ! The wrong shall be requited to the utter- 
most, and with the ignominy that it demands. The felon perpetra- 
tors l),ive removed themselves beyond the pale of honorable thought 
— I will not sully the proud name we bear by btoopiug to their de- 
graded level. 

Cec. It wanted that asssurance only, to banish the la?t shadow 
from my soul. Now all s forgotten, but the deep gratitude I owe to 
heaven for its m.'rciful interposition ! 



38 THE DARK HOUR BKFORK DAWX. 

Enter Barox De Trop. 

Bar. Excuse me for breaking .in on you so early — you will — you 
must, my dear friend, wlien you hear wlrat I have to say. The ras- 
cal is not here now, so I can tell you all without — without danger. 
Do you know who robbed you last night — you'll gasp with surprise 
when 1 tell you. It was the very identical marquis who established 

a claim to [&« Ckcile.] Bless my soul! — it can't be — what the 

deuce have I done with — all ! I remember — the scoundrel stole them. 
[AsidM to ViscoMrTE.] Tell me — I can't see very well — is that 

Vis. My wife. Baron. You know her, do you not 1 

Bur. No — I meiin yes I upon my life I believe — why it is. My di.'ar 
madam, I'm delighted to see you looking so well. [Aside.} Of all 
the distractingly enijjmatical tstablishments it was ever my lot to 
encounter this is by far the most puzzling. 

Pap. [Annoiincififf.'] Le Chevalier De La Tour ! 

Enter La Tour, c., handsomely dressed. — Light perriwig. 

La T. My dear sister ! 

Cec. Dear, dear brother! 

[VrscoMTE shaken hands with La Tour. 

Pap. [Aside.'] By the bones of Muchiavelli! the Empire is a success 
for the present. [Exit. 

Vis. My brother-in-law — Baron de Trop. 

Bar. Proud of the honor, sir : delighted to see you looking so 
well. lA.fide.'] I wish I had my spectacles. 

La T. Baron, 1 am happy to meet you. 

Bar. Thank you, sir, thank yon. IJut to return to our mutton. 
You know I saw all that occurred last nisrht. The villains almost 
strangled me — there were two of them. Now can you guess who 
thi-y were 1 

Vis. I think I can. 

Bar. Never, never in the world ! I'll tell you — 

La T. [Attack.] Beware! 

Bar. [Cla.iping his ears] Good gracious ! my ears! [Ashelooks 
aroaiid. La Touh dmps dawn on the other side.] That was one of them, 
I'll swear. [Aside 

Ft.9. Well. Baron, go on. 

Bar. I believe 1 won't say anything about it just now. [Aside.] 
I'll trap this fellow — Fll first buy a pair of spectacle.^, then bring a 
company of the city guard, and search the bouse from top to bottom. 
[Aloitd] Good day, for the present — I just recollect an appointment. 
[7b La Tour.] Don't let anybody out of the place until I return, 
not even your brother-in-law. I have my reasons — there's something 
wrong. 

La T. I'm very much obliged to you, Baron. 

Bar. Why. you're not — ah lyes— I see! Good morning! [Asvle.] 
It's Ihe man himself. I'll swear to it. [Exit. 

La T. The poor Baron ! I don't wonder that his limited stock of 
brain is somewhat distracted by the confusion of the last four aad 
twenty hours. 



THE DARK HOUK BEFORE DAWX. 89 

Vis. Have you made all your preparations ? 

La T. Eniiiely. 

Ctc. And witli safety to yourself, Joseph ? 

La T. Dislincily. 

Vis. Tben J suppose we had better entrust to you the details of 
the denouement? 

L<t T. Exactly. 

Vis. Come, Cecile, I think we may safely leave the establishment 
of your honorable name in the hands of your devoted brother. 

Cec. Willingly, and wi,th my whole heart. 

\_ExU with ViSCOMTE. 

La T. [Rings bell.'] All goes well. I think 1 have laid my plans ef- 
fectually. This Papillou must be entrusted with something of our 
secret, for we shall need his assistance at a critical momeut. 

Enter Papillon. 

Pap. Did monsieur ring 1 

La T. Yes, friend Papillon, I did. 

Pap. Monsieur knows me it would seem 1 

La T. Thorughly — and will give you proof that I believe you to 
be an honest sort of scamp. Do I mistake in supposing- tliat you 
would gladly aid in exposing thu villainy which has assailed the Vis- 
conite's name and the honor of his wife "' 

Pup. I would risk my life in such an endeavor ! 

La T. Give me your hand — I thank you! Now, listen. There will 
arrive, privately, at this house, a detachment of the police guard. 
Sue that ilicy are quietly disposed of so as to command this apart- 
metit. and when I say the word, admit them. Uo this properly, and 
ril promise you that the great gray moth shall never flutter uear the 
butterfly's rosebud any more. 

Pap. What is it I hear? 

Lju T. Do you not know me, Papillou 1 

Pap. Monsieur's voice is familiar. 

Lt T. Look in my face. 

Pap. Joseph, the lutendant! I)y all that's miraculous! 

La T. The same, and the brother of your slandered mistress, who 
has sworn to be avenged upon her base calumniators! 

Pap. Pardon, Monsieur, for all my little unwitting impertinences. 
If I liad but known — 

La T. There is nothing to pardon. Act like a true and hoaest man 
now. and have no fears tor the future. 

Pap. Miiiisieur may depend on me. {Exit c. — Bdl rings. 

La T. They're coming ! the end approaches! Now, villainy. 1 liave 
thee in the toil ! - [Exit k. 

Pai'iliaiX ushers in the Coun't Alfred De SKXXi':vit,r,K, Fukllqukt, 
MuitLLCiiic and .Mnsctirx, with an ADVOCATf;, w.'iu sits at table. 

De S. Stay. Pai)illon, where is the Viscomte 1 
Pap. [Simpli/.] Can't say, mouseigneur. 
De S. Is he uot at home ? 



40 THE DARK HOPK BKFORE DAWN. 

Pap. Don't know, monseignour. 

Fre. Valuable domestic, that ! 

De 3Ier. Superb ! 

De Men. A perfect treasure! 

De S. Your master is about to leave the city, I presume ? 

Pup. Possibly, monseigneur. 

De S. Is there any person hero to represent him in this busi- 

ne^^^^ '! 

Pap. Probably, monseigneur. 

ue S. Who is'itl 

]'ap. Hav'iit heard, monseigneur. 

De S. You can tell us, at least, what disposition he has made of 
that unhappy lady, your late mistress? 

Pap. Not in his confidence, monseigneur. 

De S. P.-^haw! Retire! 

Pc/p. Certainly, monseigneur. [Exit, 

De S. 1 don't know whether this is imbecility or impertinence 

Pre. It's sufficiently amusing, any way. 

De S. My good cousin's message is somewhat ambiguous. What 
settlement can it be, at which the presence of an advocate is neces- 
sary 1 

Fre. Mv dear friend, I can divine it instantly. Disgusted with so- 
ciety in general, and wilh this establishment in particular, he means 
to restore your rights and surrender it to you. 

De Mes. That'.s evident enough, 

De Mer. Beyond a doubt. 

De S. By Jove ! I hope so. We could pass our time here agreeably 
enough. 

Fre. A delightful retreat, and not expensive. 

Enler Papillon, announcing. 
Le Chevalier D^a Tour! 

Enter La Tour, with a horsewhip. 

De. S. Who the deuce is this, I wonder ? Some relation to her 
ladyship, from the name, perhaps. 

La T. Your pardon, sirs. Is the Viscomte de Eosiere of the com- 
pany 1 

De S. He is not monsieur. 

La T. Are you his friends'? 

De S. We have that honor. 

La T. I could wish it had been otherwise. 

De 8. How if we were not ? 

La T. I might solicit your advice upon a matter of importance. 

De 8. Between ourselves, then, you maj' speak freely here. 

La T. Briefly, then — I am the brother of her who was called Ce- 
cile La Tour, a plain gentleman of Normandy, ignorant of city cus- 
toms, but resolute to avenge the insult done to her name and mine. 

De S, [Aside to rest.] Could we but urge this lout to fight him, it 
would open another chance. [Alo^id.] Sit, believe me we all sympa- 



THE IIARK notTR BEFORE DAWN'. 41 

thize with you in the injustice done to your si.-^ter, and will aid you 
in any way to obtain redress. 

La T. Tlianlv yon — yon are very kind, but as, I said before, I am 
unused to the method of proceeding in such a case, and would be 
glad to learn it Crom this honorable company. 

Di S. Nothing so easy, my dear Iriend ; you know, of course, from 
whence this indignity proceeds 1 

La T. Most assuredly. 

Dt S. You must insult him in some deadly inanner, and before 
witnesses, so that he must fight, and then — the rest is simple. 

La T. Insult him, but how 1 Let me know the most degrading 
way 1 

De. S. Call him a liar ! 

La T. Ah ! 

De Mtr. Or a cowardly poltroon. 

Fre. A base, dishonorable rascal. 

De Mfs. Or la.sh the hound across the face with your whip. 

La T. I thuuk you, sirs! It's just the course I would have taken, 
and so to begin— Count Alfred de Senneville, you are a liar ! An 
infamous and most unmitigated villiau ! Maurice de Merlucho, you 
are a cowardly poltroon ! You, De Meschin, a base, dishonorable ras- 
cal! And you, sir, a contemptible, degraded hound! 

[Cuts him across face icith his xohip. 

De S. Your life shall answer for this mortal insult ! Dastards ! 
do you fly from a single man. 

Enter La. Force, c. d. 

Ha ! La Force ! Your knife ! Cut down, yon ruffian, or we are lost ! 

La F. Softly, Messieurs! A man of honor likes to know what 
be fights about — the odds appear to be sufHciently in your favor, as 
it is, and •' mort de diable," I have enough of the old feeling left to 
plant me on the weaker side! 

La T. [Aside to La Force.] That touch of virtue saved you from 
the galleys. 

La F. What's that? 

La T. \^Aside.] Silence ! We robbed this house together last night 
— a free confession, and you shall escape ! 

La F. Outmanouvred ! Sir, I bow to your sagacity, and accept 
the conditions! Messieurs! the game's against you, so you may as 
well give up your bands. 

i)e 5*. But not without our revenge. We are four to two! down 
with them ! [They rush towards La Tour and La Force. 

Enter from c. D., the ViscoMTE and Cecile. — They all retire. 

Vis. Hold! Alfred de Senneville, would you add bloodshed to 
your discovered crime 1 

IJe S. Away with such cant ! Disgrace surrounds us on all sides ! 
The only chance for safety is to cut a passage through! Come on! 
for shame. Even cowards fight, when they're at bay ! 

La T. Measureless villiau ! Had you shown the slightest sem- 



42 THE DAKK BOUR BEFORE DAWN. 

blance of contrition, I would have entreated lenity, but now, I leave 
you to the laws you have outraged I Witliia there, Papillon ! 

Enter Papillon with Officer and a ddachment of Guard. 

De S. Ah ! now the game is up, indeed ! 

Officer. Gentlemen, your swords ! [They deliver them up."] I must 
request the honor of your company. 

Fre. Wlicre? 

Officer. To the Ba?tile ! 

Le S. Think not that I shall forget ; there will yet come a time. 

[Thei/ are escorted off. 

La F. I presume that I make no mistake in supposing this amiable 
domestic circle would feel itself more at ease, if I were permitted, most 
re.'^pectfully to retire. I dare not hope to be believed, even if I sliould 
say tljat I repent the share I had in this foul work, or promise to amend 
my sorry life ; a withered leaf tossed here and there upon the winds 
of destiny, necessity more than inclination has hitherto drifted me 
into the foulest corners of the social world ; let those whose lot baa 
betn more fortunate, be grateful to the good fate which lifted them 
above temptation, rather than too hastily condemn the world's luck- 
less ones who have fallen by the way. 

La T. You shall have an opportunity to retrieve your lost position, 
if you will. Courage, like charity, covers a multitude of sins, and 1 
owe you something for your timely support. 

Enter De Tkop, iciih guards. 

Bar. How do you do — how do ye do — glad to see you looking so 
well! where is he 1 ah ! there be is, secure him. — Goes to Visco.mte — 
guards follow.'] — Give me back my spectacles, you thieving rascal. I 
accuse this man of robbery and intended murder! he tried to strangle 
me ! 

La T. [.4«'c?e /o La FoncE.] Fly! we shall meet again. 

La F. I will, good friend : tilled with a new-found hope — I little 
thought would bless my heart again. \^Exit. 

B'lr. To strangle me. the rascal. [Shakitig Viscomte. 

Vis. Would you return the compliment by choking mel 

Bar. Eh ! bless my soul ; what a singular mistake for me to make, 
it's all from the want of those cursed spectacles ; ah ! there he is in 
earnest ; don't attempt to deny your guilt ; I saw you in the very 
act. [Crossing to La Tour. 

Cec. Why that's my brother, Baron ! 

Bar. Your what ! 

Vis. Her brother, and my best and truest friend ? you must be 
dreaming, Baron. 

Bar. Gentlemen, you can go! — [To guard,who exit.'] I haven't the 
slightest doubt but that I am asleep and dreaming ; if I knew the 
actual position of sublunary affairs I'm in bed this moment and most 
probably snoring. 

Vis. The dark hour has passed, my dear wife, and the bright morn- 
ing breaks upon our destiny, giving assurance of a happy future. 



THE DARK HOUR BEFORR DATVN 43 

Cec. Oh, may it be as cloudless as our present joy ; for me — I have 
but one regret, that I .«liould have forgotten even in thought, and for 
a single lu.slant, that the unerring band still held the balance, and 
howsoever the world's tempest may assault the truthful heart, it must 
in time outride the storm. [Cecile is led forward by Viscomte. 

EPILOGUE. 

Ccc. If some sad phases of that city's life, 

When with such scenes it's chronicles were rife, 
Have been depicted, they may well contrast 
The purer present, with the vicious past. 
Thus ends my task, and I have but to say, 
Think of the icill. and gently scan the way. 

ViscoMTE comes fo7-ward. 

Vis^ I have obtained forgiveness here, it's true, {To Cecile. 

To make it perfect now remains with you. [To Audience. 

Indulgence grant me for hU errors past, 

My first ofi'ense and possibly my last. 

Give me but credit for my loving heart, 

And blame the authors for the jealous part. 
Pap. My Rosebud wishes just to say a word. 
Mios. Now, Butterfly, how can you be absurd ? 
Pap. What, not the last one — 'tis your sex's right. 
Mas. Well, then — I'll simply say, kind friends, good night. 

I hope my service pleased you, in which case 

Please recommend mo to some other place. 
La T. You must be wearied by so many rhymes. 

To bore you now would be the worst of crimes ; 

I'll hint, perhaps you've heard the sentiment before 1 

I've done my best — the best can do no more. 

If you're content, it's probable you'll show it ; 

The critic's view — to-morrow we shall know it. 
Bar, Who are they talking to? Why, what a sight! 

I do believe — why, yes. it is — I'm right. 

I see before me those familiar faces. 

Who always, when such acts take place, take places. 

Friends to our art, and to the artist's weal ; 

With liberal hands, and hearts that pity feel, 

When helpless sorrow makes it'.s sad appeal. 

I wish I had my specs — I then could tell — 

No matter — glad to see you looking well. 

Well pleased, I mean, for if our effort gains 

Approval here, your pleasures are our pains — 

I don't mean painful pains — but here, heart-deep, 

I'll try and — bless me — I must be asleep. 

Yet may we hope, whatever be my lot. 

That you've been wide awake though I have not. 

And now, farewell — 



44 TOE DARK HOUR BEFORE DAWN 

Enter La Fokce. 

La F. One moment, if you please. 

What strange, anomalous remarks are these 
I hear of? Have you made a jump in fine, 
At once to sober eighteen fiCty-nine ? 
Alas! then, all our chronologic acting 
Will be conlused, amidst these dates distracting. 
But I suppose concession must be made 
To sovereign custom, by the scribbling trade ; 
And the legitimate is novv-a-day 
No matter what — provided that it pay. 
So pardon this with every other failing, 
Let not our hopes at least be unavailing ; 
Since 'tis with you alone remains the power, 
To bring the Dawn to many a Dark Hour. 



f CiUaloque continued from second pa^e of cover.] 



VOL. XXV. 
Itt.H KHther Hud Sun, 
IIM Massanlollo, 
IHj Slsiccn String Jack, 
196 Yuuthful giieen, 
lit; SkeletuD Wituess, 
198 hikeeprof AlibevlUe 
I'M Miller auJ bis Men, 



VOL. XXVI. VQL. xxvn. I VOL, xxvm. 

201 Artrlenne the Actress 209 Americans ia Paris, 217 

202 Undine, 210 Victorine, 218i 

203 Jessie Brown, 2U Wizard of the Wave. 219 Guide to the Stage, 

204 Asniodeus, '212 Custle Specter, |220 Veteran, 

205 Mormons. (wine. 213 Horse-shoe Robinson, 221 

206 Blanche of Brandy- 21-t Armand, Mrs Mowatt,|222 

207 Viola. 215 Fashion, do. do. 223 



200 Aladdin. I 208 Deseret Deserted. 216 |224 

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VOL. I. 

1 The Irish Atiomcy, 

2 Boots at the Swan, 

S How to Pay the Rent, 

i The Loan of a Lover, 

5 The Dead Shot, 

6 His Last Legs, 

7 The Invisible Prince, 

8 The Golden Farmer. 

With a Portrait and Me- 
moir of JUHN SEFTON. 

VOL. V. 

33. Cocltnies in California 
84. Who Speaks First? 
S5. Bombastus Fnrioso, 

86. Macbelh Traveslie. 

87. Irish Ambassador, 

88. Itolicate (Ground, 

89. Tlie ^^■eathe^coc■k, 
40. All that Glitters Is 

not Gold. 

With a Portrait and Me- 
moir of W. A. GOOaLL. 

VOL. IX. 

65 Temptation. 

66 Paddy Carey, 
C7 Two Gregories, 
63 King Charming, 

69 Po-ca-hon-las, 

70 Cloclimaker's Hat, 

71 Married Kake, 

72 Love and Murder. 



VOL. XIII. 

97 My Wife's Mirror, 

98 Life in New York, 

99 Middy Ashore, 

100 Crown Piince, 

101 Two Queens, 

102 Thumping Legacy, 

103 UafinishedGentleman 

104 House Dog. 

VOL. XVII. 

129 Mischief-Making, 

130 A Live AVoman in the 

131 The Corsair, [Mines, 

132 Shylock, 

133 Spoiled Child, 

134 Evil Eye, 
l,3j Nothing to Nnrse, 
1.36 Wanted a Widow. 

VOL. XXI. I 

161 Promotion, [vidual.l 

162 A Fascinating Indi- \ 

163 Mrs. Caudle, I 
164Shakspeare's Dream, 

165 Neptnno's Defeat, 

166 Ladv of Bedchamber, 

167 Take Care of Little 

Charley, 

168 Irish Widow, I 



VOL.11. 

9. Pride of the Market, 

10. Used Up, 

11. The Irish Tutor, 

12. The Barrack Room, 

13. Luke the Laborer, 

14. Beauty and the Beast, 

15. St. Patrick's Eve, 

16. Captain of the Watch. 

With a Portrait and Me- 
moir of Miss C. WEM- 
YSS. 

VOL. VI. 

41. Grimshaw, Bagshaw 

and Bradsliaw, 

42. Rough Diamond, 

43. Bloomer Costume, 

44. Two Bonnycastles, 

45. Born to Good Lnck, 

46. Kiss in the Dark, 

47. 'Twould Puzzle a 

Conjuror, 

48. Kill or Cure. 

With a Portrait and Me- 
moir of F. M. KEXT. 

VOL. X. 

73 Ireland and America, 

74 Pretty Piece of Bu.si- 

ncss, 

75 Irish Broom-maker, 

76 To Paris and Back for 

Five Pounds, 

77 That Blessed Baby 

78 Our Gal, 

79 Swiss Cottage, 

80 Young A\'idow. 

VOL. XIV. 

105 The Demon Lover, 

106 MatrinioiiV, 

107 In and Out of Place, 

108 I Dine with My Mo- 

109 Hi-a-wa-tha, [ther, 

110 Audy Blake, 

111 Love in '76, [oulties 

112 Bomauce under DiOi- 

voL. x'\mi. 

137 Lottery Ticket, 

138 Fortune's Frolic, 

139 Is he Jealous 7 

140 Married Bachelor, 

141 Husband at Sight, 

142 Irishman in London, 

143 Animal Magnetism, 

144 Highways & By- Ways 



Vol. III. 

17 The Secret, [Peppers 

18 White Horse of the 

19 The Jacobite, 

20 Tlie Bottle. 

21 BoXHudCox, 

22 Bamboozling, 

23 Widow's Victim, 

24 Robert Macaire. 

With a Portrait and Me- 
moir of Mr. y. 3. 
CHANFHAU. 

VOL. VII. 

49 Box and Cox Married 

50 St. Cupid [and Settled 

51 Go-to-bed Tom, 

52 The Lawyers, 

53 Jack .Sheppard, 

54 The Toodles, 

55 The Mobcap, 

56 Ladies Beware. 
With a Portrait and Me- 
moir of SOL. SMITH. 



VOL. XI. 

81 O'FIannigan and the 

82 Irish Post, [Faries 

83 My Neighbor's Wife, 

84 Irish Tiger, 

85 P. P., or Man & Tiger, 

86 To Oblige Benson 

87 State Secrets, \ 

88 Irish Yankee. 



VOL. XV. 

113 One Coat for 2 Suits, 

114 A Decided Case, 

115 Daughter, [Minority, 

116 No ; or, the Glorious 

117 Coroner's Iu(]ui3<tion 

118 Love in Humble Life, 

119 Family Jars, 

120 Personation. 

VOL. XIX, 

145 Colnmbns, [Beard, 

146 Harlequin Blue 

147 Ladies at Home 

148 Phenomenon in a 

Smock Frock, 

149 Comedy and Tragedy 

150 Opposite Neighbors. 

151 Dutchman's Ghost. 
52 Persecuted Dutchman 



VOL. IV. 

25 Secret Service, 

26 Omnibus, 

27. Irish Lion, 

28. Maidof Croissy, 

29. The Old Guard, 
80. Raising the Wind, 
31. Slasher and Crasher, 
82. Naval Engagements. 
With a Portrait and Me- 
moir of Miss BOSE 
TELBIN. 

VOL. Via. 

57 Morning Call, 

58 Popping the Question, 

59 Deaf as a Post, 

60 New Footman, 

61 Pleasant Neighbor, 

62 Paddy the Piper, 

63 Brian O'Linn, 

64 Irish Assurance. 



VOL. XII. 

89 A Good Fellow, 

90 Cherry and Fair Star, 

91 Gale Brcezely, 

92 Our Jemimy, 

93 Millet's Maid, 

94 Awkward Arrival, 

95 Crossing the Line, 

96 Conjugal Lesson. 



VOL. XVI. 

121 Children in the Wood 

122 Wiunin;; a Husband, 
1'23 Day after the Fair, 

124 Make Your Wills, 

125 Rendezvous, 

126 My Wife's Husband, 

127 Monsieur Tonson, 

128 Illustrious Stranger. 

VOL. XX. 

153 Musard Ball. 

154 Great Tragio Revival 

155 High Low Jack and 

Game, [Ireland, 

156 A Gentleman from 

157 Tom and Jerry, 

158 Village Lawyer, 

159 Captain's not A-miss> 

160 Amateurs and Actors, 



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